


Eorzean Vignettes

by MinawaKitten



Series: Tales of Eorzea [2]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: F/M, Final Fantasy XIV: Heavensward Spoilers, Final Fantasy XIV: Shadowbringers Spoilers, Final Fantasy XIV: Stormblood Spoilers, Gen, Lue-Reeq is my fcking son, Multi, but he probably gets off to that, spoilers for like everything, zenos obsession is one sided and khrystie wants to step on him
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-04
Updated: 2020-08-26
Packaged: 2021-01-22 22:26:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 27,787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21309610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MinawaKitten/pseuds/MinawaKitten
Summary: a series of short vignettes or concepts that may or may not be connected to Tales of Eorzea
Relationships: G'raha Tia | Crystal Exarch/Warrior of Light, Haurchefant Greystone/Warrior of Light, Lue-Reeq & Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Lyna & Warrior of Light, Warrior of Light/Thancred Waters, Zenos yae Galvus/Warrior of Light
Series: Tales of Eorzea [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1405534
Comments: 5
Kudos: 16





	1. Horror

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In Thancred's quest to uncover who is Emil's father, he discovers something truly horrific.
> 
> tw: implications of sexual assault, not depicted or anything, just lack of context and information makes him draw said conclusion

"Well, I've asked all three of them. . ." Thancred sighs. "None of them seem to be Emil's father." Both Nashu and Hildibrand put on thoughtful looks while Cyr pauses his sweeping to shoot the trio an exhausting expression at the back of their heads. Honestly, he cant believe how absolutely clueless and idiotic those three are. Well, almost all three of them. It's beyond obvious who Emil's father is but despite the hints his friends have made, somehow Thancred Waters is still completely oblivious. And yet -- _yet! _\-- he has somehow enlisted the help of Hildibrand and his companion to help him figure this out.

"They all said no?" Nashu pouts. "But isnt she married to Lord Edemont's son, Haurchefant?"

"That she is!" Hildibrand announces, stroking his chin thoughtfully. "However, the child has no sort of elzen traits. The child is most certainly. . . Hyur!"

Cyr snorts to himself. That's one thing they got right so far. He pauses once more, eyeing the tattoo on Thancred's neck. For such a well educated person, he seems to be an absolute idiot. Why the Warrior of Light would bear his child is beyond him.

"Hyur. . ." Thancred repeats, his expression intense as he shuffles through all he knows about Khrystie. She's made is clear she would not lay with anyone she did not love or have a strong bond with -- but the lack of Elzen traits swiftly removes both Haurchefant and Estinien from the list of possibilities and the fact that something is _only _starting to bud between her and Aymeric it seems unlikely he is the father -- and as far as he knows, she hasn't made any bonds with any Hyur men since. . . since his fuck up and ruining of their relationship.

So. . . Could he. . . could Emil be born not from a relationship of love. . . but from a tragedy?

The moment the thought occurred to him, everything seemed to fall into place. The reason why she wouldn't look him in the eye, the way she recoils when he gets close, the annoyed and pitting looks everyone gave him when he asks about Emil and the reason they refuse to talk about the child's background. . .

Oh god. 

Fuck.

It's absolutely horrible. Really. He doesn't want to think about it. He doesn't even want to believe it. It makes his entire being twist and coil with utter disgust and it makes him want to throw up. 

But . . . it's the only thing that makes sense.

Khrystie was assaulted.

And if his calculations of the timing is right, it was during the time their relationship began to bloom. 

And he had no idea. No idea about that she was suffering this whole time. He had the audacity to insult her. Compare her to an Ascian. To be completely ignorant of how much she actually loved him. He tore her heart out and threw it aside. And he couldn't even own up to his actions, he instead he blatantly ignored her, and then saddled the responsibility of watching Minfila on her -- something that only furthered to damage her more when she failed to complete the job and she expected him to lash out at her for what was Minfilia's own choice. 

No wonder she didn't say anything. She would rather carry this heavy burden on her own and raise this child to the best of her abilities instead of asking others for help. It's exactly why Haurchefant is eager to fill the role of a father for a child, this child didn't have one! Only a complete scumbag!

And for a moment, that disgust clutching Thancred's chest in a vice tightens in a completely different way. Despite her falling out with the Scions. . . she could trust everyone with this information. Everyone but him. His time in the Dravanian Forelands gave him enough of that -- Time. Time to think, learn and realize. And he hates it. He hates how his own failures are staring right back at him once again. His uselessness and inability to help the ones he loves so dearly is suffocating him.

Yes. After all that time, he's realized it's _ her _ he fell in love with. Not Ajisai. In truth, he ignored the signs that Ajisai beheld no feelings for him beyond a friendship. He wanted to believe he could win her over. . . but that’s not love. It never was and in the end, it was Khrystie that stole his heart. It was always her. And now. . . he needs to be by her side. Even if she'll reject him. He has to. He's fucked everything up before, but he'll do it this time. He'll support her this time.

"I think I figured it out." Huh. His voice is trembling. He sounded so calm and collected in his head. . . but to say this outloud. . . it's so much harder than he thought. 

"Really? Who is it?" Nashu questions, excitement in her voice. God. She thinks there will be a good ending to this. They both do judging by those eager looks on their faces. Thancred squeezes his eyes shut and tells them both; She was assaulted. 

Horror washes over them both -- the trio completely oblivious to the shock on Cyr's face. Cyr is about to shout right at them about how absolutely insane this idea was -- at least until Thancred began to explain his reasoning. By completely avoiding him and neglecting to tell him the truth. . . it became completely understandable and plausible how he came to such a conclusion. Additionally, he truly and genuinely believed this judging by the way his voice trembled, angry and yet anxious look in his eyes and the panicked motions of his hand as he spoke.

Whatever separated them in the past, he was willing to jump over those hurdles, make amends and support the woman he loves. He would have found it admirable if it wasn't for the fact that he was totally and utterly incorrect. And it's with excellent timing, the doors of Hildibrand's Idyllshire estate open and closes behind whoever entered. Cyr jumps a bit as the young woman in question calls for him, confusion in her voice. He quickly checks his watch and winces.

The intention was to invite her over and make her tell Hildibrand and Nashu the truth about this so they could, at the very least, deliver the news to Thancred. Perhaps it was a bit underhanded of him, but this was honestly getting rediculious if it got to the point the father of the child was so fucking clueless that he thought she was raped instead of realizing the child was his. 

And so, with his back turned, Cyr was completely oblivious to the look of dawning realization on Thancred's face. Khrystie was dragged out to Coerthas long before she took refuge in Ishgard, back when she was helping the survivors of the Waking Sands massacre recover Cid's airship to confront Garuda. She never went into detail about what she had to do get said ship back. Was that it? Was that the moment she was forced into submission? Forced to 'take care' of such disgusting people. . . is this why. . . despite everything she did, she was still disrespected by Ishgardians? Because they deemed her to be nothing more than a whore?

And then. . . there's this bastard before him.

Cyr was apart of the church of Ishgard before he took up a job as a butler at Hildibrand's Idyllshire estate, right? From what he was told, the church was her enemy, so there was no reason logical reason for her to come out to the middle of nowhere to come see one man unless he was threatening her? Right?

He is seized by his emotions all at once. An angry roar tears from his throat, startling just about everyone. He could vaguely hear the sound of heels clicking up the stairs faster than before -- and his stomach coils in utter disgust. What outfit did that sick bastard force her to wear for as his entertainment? How could he do that to her? How could anyone hurt her like that? God. He'll fucking kill them all. He'll make each and everyone of them fucking pay. His eyes sting and burn as his brain tries to imagine her pain while the cold steel of his knife digs into Cyr's throat. The bastard looks terrified but god he feels pride in seeing him ready to beg for his life with a bloody nose. 

"Thancred?! Y-You--!" She sputters in disbelief, confusion all to clear in her voice as she arrives on the scene, her hand clutching the staircase banister. "What are you doing?! Get off of him!" She demands. Thancred grits his teeth, his fists curled around the hilt of the blade that his knuckles were white. Nashu and Hildibrand jump into action, rushing to her side and forming a wall between her and this bastard. 

"W-What are you doing?! Yo-Youre not going to leave me like this? Are you?!" Cyr pleads, tears in the corners of his eyes. Khrystie's words are immediately muffled as Nashu brings the other woman's head to her chest, basically smothering her in a way too similar like a mother consoling her child. Hildibrand places his hands on his hips and looks so utterly disappointed. 

"I wont allow this man to end your life Cyr!" With all the bravo he can muster, Hildibrand points to his ex-companion. "However, I will make sure you atone for your crimes! That is a gentleman's promise!" 

"hif crimphs?" Khrystie questions, her face still trapped in Nashu's chest.

"His crimes." Nashu nods sadly, patting the other woman on her head as if she’s trying to soothe her from whatever pain she was suffering.

"My crimes. . .?" Gears turn in Cyr's head and the pieces finally come together. He's torn between being utterly insulted and furious at the accusation and proud that his friends would immediately choose the side of a supposed victim of a violent sexual crime rather than let friendship stop them from doing what was right. Thancred, on the other hand, he knows nothing of this man other than the now blatantly love and protective instincts for the woman he cares for, but this is rather extreme for a crackpot hypothesis. "I have committed no crime! And certainly not one you dare to accuse me of!"

"Shut up!" Thancred snarls, jerking him off the wall for a moment, only to slam his head against it once more and leave him in a daze. Khrystie yanks her head away from Nashu at long last and shoots a glare at her right at him. For the life of him, he cant even begin to imagine why.

"Thancred, I have no idea what the hell you're talking about but you're not the judge and jury, so, whatever Cyr did, you don't get to hand out justice!"

"I'm not going to let this whoreson get away with assaulting you! I refuse to let any Ishgardian bastard get away with it!" That completely catches her off guard. Her arms drop to her side, her jaw simply hanging in shock and for the first time in his rampage, Thancred's hand trembles. "I know you hate me -- you have every right to Khrystie -- but I refuse to sit here and let you be abused or whored out by this bastard and his shite church."

"W-Wait, what? What the hell are you talking about?!" She demands, completely lost in a haze of horror and confusion. "Where did you even get that insane idea from!?"

"I know it's hard to admit. . ." His voice is soft, empathetic even. "But, I figured it out. Emil's father."

"What." Her tone is completely flat. As if she's questioning if he's serious. . . which confuses him far more than ever before. He expected a furious denial or a soft confirmation. Not completely toneless 'what'. "Are you implying . . . I was raped?" She sounds. . . so confused, which in turn leaves him confused. Confused enough that his grip slackens that Cyr manages to pull himself away and bolts to Khrystie's side for protection. She pulls him behind her without hesitation, her arms spread to defend him should one of them try and fight. She continues to shoot them a look as she gently nudges Cyr to take a step back. Once he does, she follows him, still looking face forward right at him as she reaches into her bag, offering Cyr a bottle of water.

"I-I, thank you friend. . ." He whispers softly, his fingers trembling as they brush over the bruises on his neck.

"It's fine." The young woman returns with a soft kind voice and a kind smile. Thancred narrows his eyes, feeling sick to his stomach with how she defends this bastard. Has he warped her mind so badly that shes blind to the horrors she's suffered? Yes. That has to be it.

"It's not fine!" Thancred snaps but she remains firm, looking at him with a cold expression, extending her arm to summon her lance of choice -- the Areadbhar Lux. He grits his teeth, struggling to figure out what his next move is. No matter what, hurting her is the farthest thing from what he wants. Desperately, he tries once more to reason with her, his voice almost breaking into tears as he struggles to convey everything he's feeling in this moment. "It's not fine that people look down on you or use you for their own gain! No matter what you say, you're hurting and I . . . I just want to fix that!"

"By assaulting my friend, misleading my other friends and making the most absolute batshit insane theory possible about Emil's father?!" She demands, stomping her foot against the ground. "If this is your idea of help you need to reexamine things!"

"Especially when the answer you seek is before your very eyes!" Cyr coughs out, wheezing just a bit. A panicked look crosses Khrystie's face, causing anger to flare up in Thancred once more. What could he possibly be implying to get her to panic once again? It was a threat. It had to be. Like hell if he'll stand here and let her get hurt again. This time he'll protect her. For sure! A guttural animistic growl tore from his throat, reminding them all how he spent the better part of a year in the wilderness and he was more than willing to tap into that wild side. 

Everything seems to be happening all at once. He lunges for Cyr once more, Hildibrand grabs Nashu and dramatically ducks out of the way, Khrystie swings her lance like it's a baseball bat and Cyr cowers, ducking behind her and covered his head.

"Your son! Emil is your son!"

And the world collapses. The inspector duo slap their hands on their cheeks, gasping in utter surprise. Thancred stumbles, damn near tripping over himself, as his eyes widen with shock. Khrystie collapses to her knees clutching onto her lance like a lifeline as her body trembles. Cyr uneasily inches away, struggling to explain the story as he keeps a wary eye on the rouge. 

"She. . . She said she was with child when you two broke up. . . and she. . . she took the responsibility on herself."

Thancred's mind is reeling in so many ways. He's a father. He brought life into this world. Mel pointing out how the child had his father's nose and the utter annoyance he exhibited when he came to the conclusion that she found another lover. The looks of exasperation on the others as he asked about the boy’s father. 

Khrystie didnt tell him. And yet. . . despite his fucking up -- despite the fact she should outright hate anything or anyone with a connection to him -- she so clearly loved and cared for his flesh and blood. Tears suddenly burst from his eyes and his blades fall from his trembling hands. 

Above all, one thought stood out among the rest;

_ She wasn't being assaulted. She never was. _

"Oh . . . Oh thank the Twelve. . ." He sobs, his voice shaking and trembling. Much to her surprise, he brings his hands to his face and he curls in on himself, weeping. She returns her weapon to where she summoned it from before she slowly kneels down before him. Her hand slowly reaches out to him, gently stroking the top of his head as he sobs. It's a familiar and intimate reaction with how he leans into her touch and she allows him to rest his head in her lap, softly weeping with. . . relief and joy. 

She shoots her three friends a look that tells them they should go as she has . . . a lot to talk about. The three awkwardly shuffle away to the lower floor of the estate, talking among themselves. She turns her attention back to Thancred, gently stroking his hair as his sobs slowly die down but he has no intention of pulling away with how he grabs her long skirt, clinging to it like a life raft in the turbulent sea of emotions he's spiraling in. She doesn't fight it. Instead, she softly assures him that everything is okay.

"I. . . I was going to tell you. . ." She begins softly. He doesn’t look up but she isn’t bothered by that. "Really. I was. . . but then Levithan happened. . ." At the mention of the Primal, the one that brought a wedge to their relationship, he presses his face a little harder into her skirt and clings a little tighter. She takes a moment to gently soothe him, telling him it's all fine now. "It didn't seem right to bring it up after everything fell apart. Scarlett confronted me and asked me when I was going to tell you but . . . I couldn't saddle you with that burden. . ."

"Burden?" He repeats softly, carefully lifting himself up to look right in her eyes after much hesitation. She carefully reaches out, frowning just a bit as he flinched just a bit at the moment her hand her hand cups his cheek. Thankfully, he soon enough leans into the touch, taking in the tender affection she gives him. She smiles softly, her other hand taking one of his own.

"I was afraid. . . you would hate Emil because he was my child." She confesses softly. "And how you just. . . how you couldn’t look at me and you made all those faces at me when you did, I thought looking at me disgusted you so much."

"Twelve no, that was never what I thought!" He exclaims, making her jump in surprise a bit. His hands, large and warm, cup her cheeks and gently cradle her face with such tenderness that tears overflow from her eyes. He brings her in close, cautiously but gently kisses her forehead, and when he pulls back his thumbs wipe away her tears. 

"I was always ashamed of myself. And the moment I realized it was always you I loved, I felt like the biggest, um, 'tool' as you put it." She laughs a little before leaning forward to give him a careful hug. The love and affection they still clearly hold for each other, despite everything, seizes him and he hugged her tightly once more. Sniffling, she returns the gesture, clinging to him as tightly as possible. "I was a fool. A fool who hurt the person he loved and was too much of a coward to even confront that. 

"While you were afraid of being a burden, I was afraid of hurting you even more, but in doing so, it seems all we did was hurt each other. I don't know if you forgive me, or if you ever will, but I just wanted to protect you. Even if I was to be forgotten. I just wanted you to be safe and happy. . . and when I thought. . . By the Twelve, when I thought you were sexually assaulted I was so disappointed in myself. . . because I thought it happened around the time we first started to show feelings for others and I was so scared to think I missed signs of pregnancy and you having to carry a child with so little help . . ." She pulls back a little to hold his face in her hands once more, gently resting her forehead against his own. He hums in soft content, leaning into her touch.

"Truth be told, my employers have a way to resolve my pregnancies rather quickly."

"Do they?" He questions, a brow raised, but curious all the same. When many aspects of her job were first explained, he never did absorb the information. 

"It's a time thing. . ." She laughs a bit weakly. "There's a chamber in Council Haven that can manipulate time, so if several or so hours passed outside of the chamber, at least several months passed while inside of it. Which is why, despite how little time passed for you all, I ended up returning to work with a baby." Thancred thoughtfully hums.

"And here I thought you were using a glamour to hide that. You're truly something else. . ." He goes silent for a moment, his hand holding on tightly to her own once more. She gives him a bit confused, if not anxious look. He smiles a bit before leaning in and kissing her forehead like she always loves. She practically purrs with the attention, a sound he’s always loved. "I'm sorry for how I acted today. I was rather. . . reprehensible. . . but the thought of you being forced to do such things to protect people that seem so ungrateful to you just. . . It angered me so much. . . but I should have gotten the truth first before acting the way I did. . ." She holds his hand, giving it a soft understanding pat. 

"Thancred, I understand. Tifa's father was sexually abusive to her older sister and when I first learned of this, I wanted to jump the man, thinking he may have done the same to her. Thankfully, he did not and he paid for his crimes. . . but thinking about what horrible crimes could have been done to someone you cherish, it's not a good feeling. You want to protect who you love and make anyone who hurt them suffer. Your heart was in a good place Thancred and I can't fault you for that. . ." She pouts, giving him a serious look. "but you have to talk to Cyr about this." Thancred winces at that. He really lost it there, huh. But she's right, he has to make up for that. He didn't have any proof to his theory and blindly pursue it because it made 'sense', only to make a goddamn fool of himself. . . but first. . . 

Thancred carefully takes her hand, pulling her closer to his body, to the point she's almost sitting in his lap. She blinks her big beautiful eyes that look up in confusion and her cheeks flushed red. Steeling what courage he has, he holds her face in his hands. His cheeks are bright red as he leans in but he can't assume anything. 

"Can I kiss you?" She smiles, throwing her arms around his neck, and passionately presses her lips to his own. He wraps his arms around her body, holding her close as he eagerly returns her gesture. 

Finally. 

_ Finally _, everything felt just right. 

To hold onto the woman he loved, to have her in his life once more. . . and to have a precious son with her filled Thancred Waters with a joy like no other. 


	2. Reunion

G'raha Tia is most certain he is dying.

There, curled up against his body and resting her head in his lap is none other than the Warrior of Light -- his savior and inspiration. . . and the last person he wanted to be on The First.

When they met in their youth, she was at a low point of her life after a rather disastrous breakup with Thancred Waters and raising his son alone; She spoke of how much she wanted to leave, to vanish all together to escape her depressive feelings. When he asked what would become of others if the Warrior of Light left, she simply smiled and spoke praise of another -- of Scarlett Paharo, a male Vira that also held the title Warrior of Light. Although he was not recognized on the same scale she was, she was more than certain Scarlett was able to fill whatever shoes she left behind.

And so, when he awoke from his deep slumber after sealing himself inside the Crystal Tower, and -- despite his oath to chart his course through history using her as his guiding star -- he could not find the name of his beloved within the texts of history and learning of the Eighth Umbral Calamity, he choose to believe in her choice. To believe in Scarlett.

However, because she was not noted in the annals of history as he thought she would, he did not expect her to still dwell on the Source. . . and yet, upon summoning Thancred Waters, she followed in suit. . . but, he had no knowledge of this. She landed in a completely different location, five years apart from him. . . and as a Keeper of the Moon. . .

Looking back on the day she arrived at the Crystarium, seeing such a beautiful Keeper in black, wielding a staff that contained a such great amount of Light Aether, he was immediately weary of her, of course, but he truly had no idea of what to think when she said: "Where is my Raha. . .?" Her voice drowning in utter desperation and grief. "Where is he?!" Immediately her voice reached a furious high pitch and she leap for him like a wounded and desperate animal, her nails digging into the material of his cowl, screaming through her tears. "He went to sleep in that tower! He's supposed to be in there! Where is he?! What have you done to him!?"

He didn't know what to think of her words as she was dragged out of the Crystarium kicking and screaming. To be known and acknowledged as someone's lover that they would fight for and make a scene filled him with a feeling of giddiness he did not know but how could she know his name? He's never met a Keeper like that before, much less tangled himself in a relationship with another.

No answers would come as she never returned to speak to him nor retrieve her staff -- nor did he see hide or tail of her for years to come until his plan finally set into motion. . . She would introduce herself as Zoei LeConna and meddle with the affairs' of the Warriors of Darkness, much to his chagrin. Her attempts to stop them escalated to a point where she kidnapped Ryne and even himself! Himself! Of all people!

Although, when it came to Ryne, when she was still living as Minfilia, she simply offered a moment of freedom where she did not have to be Minfilia, but whoever she wanted within the safe gates of the little hamlet she cared for -- one simply named Home.

As for him, she confronted him within the walls of her humble house and called him out on his plan that he kept under wraps for so long. Demanding to know how he could force the burden of grief and death upon Scarlett and the Scions? How could he lie to them all? And how DARE he tell her he loved her, only to lock himself in that tower, then lie to her face that he never heard of G'raha Tia! Did he think of her, his beloved hero, some sort of idiot?!

An idiot that would not recognize his voice. . . ? Or the gentleness he carried when he spoke of something he truly cared for? The familiar motions of his hands when through when he grows nervous or anxious? His smell? The familiar and soothing pattern of his very soul that she memorized as they spent days side by side? Adventuring, gazing at the stars, eating, engaging in contests together once he taught her the basics of archery, speaking of history or even sleeping side by side in his tent?

And it was only then did the pieces come together.

The Keeper before her was the very woman he wanted to protect and who's judgement he trusted more than any other. It was her. . . . Khrystie Melody. . . Oh how his heart broke when he saw the absolute pain he caused her. . . And a small part of him wondered why a woman so radiant and full of light would wear black. Was it because she was mourning him this entire time? The very thought of that broken him even further and he wept in her warm arms that cradled him like something so precious and utterly valuable.

He never once though -- nor did he imagine -- that he could mean so much to her. He never thought that his own death could hurt her so much. He never thought he was WORTH anything to her.

And yet, she's more willing to play the role of a villain than he ever could to save him and talk some sense into the man she loves. And so, with his entire plan unveiled, she did everything in her power to make sure death did not befall him nor allowed The First to be destroyed. . . And now, despite having a way to easily return to The Source, she's chosen to stay here a bit longer with him, siting that she 'needs to spend as much time with her beloved as they made a promise to see the world together.' and with a ring from her future self, it was entirely possible.

G'raha pulls himself from memory lane for a moment to gaze upon the ring that rests on his left ring finger. It was crafted entirely from what appeared to be a glimmering crystal, even the same shade of blue as the tower he thought he would be forever bound to. She slid it on his finger, smiling the entire time as she informed him they'll be together now and they'll be happy together.

Well, she wasn't wrong about that. . . The two of them are so utterly happy together.

He carefully brings a hand to her hair, gently running his fingers through it. She all too eagerly leans into his touch, practically purring with content. His heart is going to fail on him at this rate. How could someone so powerful and so wonderful be so happy with him? Not to mention be so absolutely precious? So beautiful, so precious. . . so beloved. . . Ah. She was truly too good for a man like him. . . and yet, that did not matter to her. As long as they were happy, she was happy and nothing more touched his heart than that knowledge.

"Raha. . . ?" She yawns, stretching across his lap with cat-like grace before she nuzzles his stomach a bit to eagerly. He cant help but blush in return, gently leaning down to nuzzle against her head and lick at her furry ears. She giggles and her ears twitch in happy little amusement. Oh. Be still his heart. He's so thankful she doesnt find it odd that he wishes to groom her every now and again, just one of the small ways to show her affection and trust. She's far more used to giving him hugs and kisses along with sweet words. It's an even stranger feeling he is one of the two given the responsibility to teach her about the way of Miqo'tes, even if he's a Seeker of the Sun, but that seems to matter so little to her. She's just eager to listen to him. To be with him. To love him.

A squeak of surprise escapes him when she suddenly leans up, wrapping her arms around his neck and gives him an affectionate lick to his cheek before dragging him down for a kiss. He softly whines but accepts the affection no less, she carefully pulls him down onto the sheets beside her own body and gently nuzzles her forehead against his own. Careful quiet laughter escape him and his eyes full of love and adoration for the other that he can hardly contain as he melts into her arms, purring oh so happily, a sound she just as eagerly makes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Assuming one has read Tales of Eorzea, they would know Khrystie has taken on the appearance of a Raen Au Ru named Ajisai Tokumei, she spends a very long time in said appearance and inherited her Echo ability in said transfer.
> 
> She will eventually take a fantasia from a Garlean facility [ in my canon these are used in experiments to see if becoming like the 'savages' would give them magic, it does not ] and she forgot she had one but when she found it again, shes like, hey, i bet i wont die if i drink this
> 
> and whoops
> 
> cat
> 
> A second piece of context is her removal from history, a usual protocol in her work for the Council is after she completes a job on a world she is then removed from history and the memory of people to keep some amount of peace and normalcy intact, the only people to remember her are those she has a strong bond with.


	3. Blep

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Art idea: the Exarch sleeping but with blep
> 
> i didnt art i but i wrote it half asleep

Being immortal, sleep is not a necessity as it once was when she was a mortal child. Sleep has become only a simple pleasure that reminds her of her humanity and she takes great pleasure in sleeping beside one of her lovers. Talking G'raha into sleeping beside her -- in a bed and not with her head in his lap while he worked -- took quite a bit of time, but as soon as he agreed and laid beside her in her suite, she threw her arms around him and all too eagerly snuggled up to his chest.

The sound of surprise he made was undeniably cute and she couldn't help but grin as she listened to his rapidly beating heart. The familiar sound of her lover's heart and the feeling of his arms gently cradling her filled her with a joy that she could not contain. She presses a light kiss to his cheek and wished him a good night. A bit flustered, he returns the gesture with a kiss to the crown of her head.

She smiles with content, a happy purr rumbling from the back of her throat as her tail all too eagerly coils around his leg like an anchor to assure herself that he's still here and none of this is truly some long and distant dream. Again, he kisses the crown of her head, his fingers gently playing with her longer strands of pearly white hair.

Sleep is truly something distant for G'raha Tia. . . but. . . for some reason, it's so hard to keep his eyes open the longer he gazes upon his beloved's sleeping form. . . Well, it shouldn't be too bad if he closed his eyes for a few moments. She'll still be here. . .

The two of them sleep, undisturbed as life in the Crystarium continues.

Khrystie is the one who awakens first -- old habits die hard after all -- and she lazily stretches across the sheets, which get tangled up in her legs. She whines just a bit before pulling herself into a seated position on her knees. She lazily looks to her side where her partner sleeps, only to let out a soft gasp and her tried eyes widen. There -- in all his cute glory -- sleeps G'raha Tia. . . with is tongue slightly peeking out from between his lips.

Oh no.

Oh god.

It was too fucking CUTE.

The White Mage grabs at her chest in an overly dramatic way before leaning in close to her lover to gently stroke his crimson red hair. His ears twitch and he leans right into her touch. Her eyes light up as she whispers about how adorable he is. She tries her hardest to contain her smile but it's not really working. She's practically vibrating with glee as she gently moves the tips of her fingers under his chin and makes a soft sound in return.

Ah. He really is the cutest.

She continues to give him soft touches of affection and coo over how adorable he is when he finally stirs. He makes a soft sound, rolling onto his back and bringing his hands to his face. He stretches and brings his hands back to sleepily rub at his face in a very cat like way that captivates her with ease. Her fluffy tail finds his own, jerking him awake. His eyes snap open and he looks to the side where he finds her waiting. A moment of hesitation passes before he lays his hand on his stomach once more and his tail eagerly coils around her own in return. She leans down, gently bumping her forehead against his own.

"Good morning Raha." She greets with a soft smile, slotting her fingers with his own. He all to eagerly twines their fingers, and, like always, he smiles in return as he greets her in the morning.

"Tis good to be awake, my love."


	4. BABY?!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> it was very inspired by a cute piece of fanart of graha holding a baby

There is. . . a baby in the Ocular.

There is a baby in the Ocular !

THERE'S A BABY IN THE OCULAR!!

And yet, all of the brilliant things he could have said, all that comes out is a silent scream of utter terror and confusion. He hastily drops his staff and rushes over to the child, scooping them up by their under arms. How did a baby get in here? Why is there a baby here? What's his purpose? He, of course, receives no answers as he rocks the child in his arms to try and keep some amount of control over the situation. The child laughs, his small fingers reaching up -- almost arching right out of the Exarch's arms, causing him to fret and panic a bit -- and the child says one thing: Kitty!

"K. . . Kitty?" G'raha repeats, baffled by the child's words. The little boy's brown eyes light up with glee and he reaches out for the twitching red ears on top the adult's head. A smile makes it's way to G'raha's face as he rocks the child in his arms, getting more laughter out of him. He has not held a child in his arms, not like this, in many many years. Lyna was the only one and, well, she hasn't been a child for many, many years. . . 

It's strange. He didnt even know he missed this feeling. To cradle and protect a young life in his arms. . . it feels rewarding in it's own right. G'raha takes a moment to examine the child as the thought of 'there's something familiar about this child' enters his mind. Aside from, this is not a baby but a toddler, he recognizes the shade of silvery-white hair and brown eyes.

"Oh. . . Emil?" That. . . That would be right, wouldnt it? He only had one chance to meet this child when they were a mere baby, when Y'shtola brought the child to Saint Coinach's Find because he was protesting and crying for his mother. Khrystie proceeded to expertly calm him down before his very eyes, but he should have expected that from a woman who brought so many children into the world. . . Really, to think a brief, seemingly insignificant moment would come to serve him later as he raised Lyna. . . 

Nevertheless, recalling his calculations, two, maybe three, years have passed on the Source since he sealed himself in that Tower, meaning Emil would be about two years old now. . . which seemed to be right age for this child. The child that continues to try and reach for his ears. G'raha laughs, his expression soft and warm as he instead offers a crystallized finger to the child. Emil's eyes twinkle with curiosity and he eagerly grabs the Miqo'te's finger and gives it a playful tug.

"Now, now, little one, I do need that finger. So, please be careful with it." He explains to the boy with kindness in his voice. 

"Kitty!" Emil beams, looking up at G'raha with such interest and wonder. G'raha Tia practically melts. His beloved hero has raised such a lovely child, if not concerning if he was some how able to make it to The First without his mother. . . He should go find her. With that thought in mind, G'raha hastily makes his exit from the Ocular to locate his beloved, completely oblivious that he just rushed right past her in his panic -- while she tries her hardest to muffle her laughter and suppress the adoring smile on her face. She should get his attention before utter chaos breaks out among the citizens in a city wide search for her. . .


	5. Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> idk what i was going for here but i feel things man with that quest in 5.1 and the lv 60-70 alc quest line

Thancred winces as he is hit with a powerful flick to his forehead. Rather than defending himself, he instead cradles Emil a little tighter -- who loudly laughs before tugging at his coat in a demand for more attention. He is not a man to deny his own son what he wants, so his attention immediately turns back to his little boy as he questions the motives behind his wife's actions.

"For being a dumbass for so long." She huffs, placing her hands on her hips. He frowns but holds no argument, knowing exactly what she's talking about. Although she -- and really, everyone -- talked some sense into him about his treatment to Ryne while she lived as Minfilia, and the girl herself has somehow forgiven him but he still feels guilty for how ugly and cruel he was to the poor girl. 

So when the girl keeps looking at Emil with those big eyes of curiosity and wonder, he allows her to cradle the boy in her arms, speaking in a soft tone as he gives her instructions on how to safely cradle him. Ryne follows them to the T and the boy is almost immediately enamored by her, reaching out to playfully tug at her hair and babbles simple phrases of 'pretty' and whatnot. Thancred can't help but smile, hoping to the Twelve that he'll be a proper father figure to the two of them. He feels an affectionate stroke against his cheek and he instantly melts right into it, turning his gaze back to his beloved. Khrystie gazes upon him with a soft and ever so loving affectionate look before she gently kisses his forehead. 

"And, F'lhaminn said she's happy that you're finally starting to forgive yourself for what happened." Her voice is soft and tender as she continues to stroke his cheek. He gives her a confused look. Forgive himself. . . He isnt sure he ever will. He could have done so much more for Minfilia. He should have. But he knows -- at least now -- that he cannot linger on the concepts of what if and what should be anymore. It will change nothing as the future is before him and that is what he should focus on.

“And Ryne,” The girl looks up the moment her name is called, looking a bit confused. “she said she’s proud of you and glad someone like you inherited Minfilia’s wish.”

“F'lhaminn. . .?” The girl repeats, confusion clear in her voice.

“Minfilia’s mother.” Khrystie simply states, placing her hand on Ryne’s head and threading her fingers through her hair. “It’s a bit of a story but the Alchemist guild master got a new job and he did the usual thing of passing work off to me as he thought it would be rather boring but it turned out to be quite the case. Someone who was clearly dead and yet not showing signs of decomposing and they looked as if they could wake up at any moment.” From the corner of her eye she notes how Thancred’s eyes widen but continues on.

“Imagine our surprise to find out there was someone else afflicted with this curse. Of all people, it was F'lhaminn’s lover. It was awkward to ask for her permission to see the body, and the ride back to Ul’dah was much more awkward. Then she asked me about Minfilia since she was aware her child left for the First and I was there for some time. And me, being the awkward dolt I am, spewed everything I knew and by the Gods, she smiled with joy as she listened to everything I had to say. It wasn’t until a few days later, after the case was closed, did she tell me she was proud of you two. She finally had closure and she was able to put the past behind her after recovering something precious of Minfilia’s and left it with her biological father.”

“. . . Was it the first gem she unearthed?” Thancred tentatively asks. Khrystie nods her head, her fingers curling around the neck of her staff, while gazing into the distance of the Empty. 

“Yes, it seems, after all these years it was discovered by F'lhaminn’s friends and they wanted to return it to her but F'lhaminn decided it would be better with her father.” Khrystie looks back to Ryne, giving the girl a smile and a pat on her head. “It seems, even worlds apart you’re quite beloved by people. So, if you do not mind, I would like to take a picture of all four of us and send it to her.” The poor girl looks flustered by the prospect, if not a bit panicked.

“B-But wouldn’t that be a family photo? I-I mean, with Emil and you two! Wouldn’t it be inappropriate to put myself in there?” Thancred laughs a bit, a dumb grin on his face.

“I don’t think Emil would mind. He seems quite taken with you after all.” Which was true given how the boy was more than content in her grasp, grinning the whole time. “Besides, you said you don’t mind me as a father figure and you adore Khrystie quite a bit and she does you. Honestly, how could either of us not love you as our daughter?” Perhaps because the concept of her having parents felt so distant and unreal she never felt as if she could ask either of them how they felt about it. . . but to hear it be confirmed has her near in tears. Thancred leaps into action first, softly assuring her it was fine as he offered a handkerchief to her and gently takes Emil from her arms as she cleans her face. Khrystie kneels beside her, softly patting her back and assured her everything is fine.

“I’m sorry. Crying over this must be silly but I’m just so happy. . .” She softly admits, dabbing at her eyes. Both adults' expressions soften, feeling sorry for the poor girl. They dont know much about Ryne to be frank and, sadly, neither does she. She's lived so long as 'Minfilia' rather than herself that she knows so little about who she is. All they know is that she was taken from her family at an age far too young that she cant even remember the name she was born with, and Thancred has chosen her Nameday -- birthday -- to be the day he rescued her from Elumore. She was given so little and always expressed guilt to be given even the bare necessities to live. . . for her to finally see and understand she has a family that truly loves and cares for her must be so much all at once for her. . . 

“There’s nothing wrong in crying when youre happy.” Thancred smiles. “Twelve knows I’ve done it so many times because of this woman.” He cheekily grins motioning to Khrystie, who sticks her tongue out in return. “So many tears were shed learning when I learned Emil was my child but I was so happy. I couldn’t do anything but cry." Ryne, of course, looks confused by such a statement but Thancred rather hastily informs her that he'll explain it when she's older. Ryne pouts a bit but she doesn't complain, which is a completely different reaction from his fiancee, who gives him an apathetic look before reminding him that Ryne is at least fifteen so that isnt exactly a conversation to pussyfoot around.

"I'm not going to explain to her how I misunderstood a situation so bad I thought you were assaulted." He says in a harsh whisper.

"I think we'll have to thanks to your wording." Khrystie deadpans, her expression rather unimpressed. The two stare at each other a little longer, debating how to even handle that before deciding they should deal with that another time. The small family of four shuffle around a bit, Khrystie beside Thancred with Ryne between the two of them as she excitedly holds Emil in her arms. The Miqo'te woman pulls her cellphone from her bag and lifts it into the air, with a little work she manages to capture a photo of her family -- Thancred's hand on her shoulder to bring her in for a kiss on the cheek, a wide grin on her face as she laughs, Ryne looking as if she's ready to cry once more and Emil pats her cheek in his attempt to soothe her. 

It's a bit of an unconventional family but it's perfectly fine -- it's their family after all.


	6. GRANDDAD

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> following BABY?! based off my bad prompt in the graha discord
> 
> prompt: wol, in a relationship with graha, is a shit and calls lyna granddaughter, much to the suffering of the other

Lyna does not like Mother.

Or Zoei LeConna.

Or Khrystie Melody.

She simply does not like _that_ woman.

When she appeared in the Crystarium ten years ago, she made quite a scene, kicking and screaming, demanding to know where her lover was. She could only feel fury as she accused the Exarch of taking someone and possibly hurting them. How could anyone make such a wild accusation when he supplied home and safety for those in need. The Exarch only gave kindness and love to his people, he would never do anything she accused him of.

But then things had to be turned on their head. 

Her grandfather had to be the very man she was looking for and she was the very woman he idolized and spoke of in the tales he recounted to her when she was a young Vii. And now. . . they're in a relationship. How could this happen? Why did this happen?

It's a bothersome feeling. She should be happy that he's found someone to love and share his life with but why was it that woman? Why did she have to return those feelings? Why was she. . . the center of his universe now? She never realized it but she missed how he doted on her, prepared her meals before work and gave her a simple hug -- things she began to rebuff by citing she was far too old to be treated like a child. Perhaps an irrational -- and truly ugly -- part of her never thought such a day would come with how the Exarch never once bothered with romantic affairs. 

"Oh! Lyna!" She jerks a bit in surprise before swiftly standing to attention. And perhaps the gods are annoyed with her as Mother approaches her, a smile on her face, her tail flickering and her fingers curled around the neck of the Weathered Tishtrya. "Could you, by chance help me?" She withholds the urge to sigh and nods her head.

"I shall do all within my power for the . . . beloved partner of the Exarch." Mother quietly laughs behind her free hand. Lyna furrows her brows a bit, slightly annoyed that would set her into a fit of laughter. 

"Still dislike me I see." She smiles innocently once her laughter comes to a stop. Lyna hopes her face betrays absolutely nothing. She was certain she did not show signs of disliking the other. "Ah, but I understand why." The woman smiles, looking back to Syrcus Tower with an unreadable expression. "I did not leave the best first impression on you, remember? I came in here demanding answers from someone who couldnt even recognize me and you had to drag me out, kicking and screaming and crying the whole time. Honestly, a fool's mistake to ask about G'raha without looking like Ajisai. I was far too panicked when I saw the tower that I wasnt thinking rationally." She lets out a mirthless laugh before gazing around the Crystarium with a fond expression and love in her eyes. "And yet. . . I cannot help but feel so proud of G'raha when I take in the full scale of everything he's done. . . He really is an idiot to think he's just a side character in history. To build society from scratch and create a home for those in need. . . to bring forth a safe haven for all and ask for so little in return. . . and to wait hundreds of years for the chance to save our worlds, even at the cost of his own life."

Lyna. . . can agree with so much of that. The Exarch has always been a good natured man, loving, gentle and oh so kind. . . but also took so much blame and guilt upon himself. She was only a baby when the man found her and took her in, only to breakdown and cry years later when she was old enough and apologize for not being fast enough to save her mother. She could never blame him for that. Sometimes. . . Sometimes we are not fast enough to save those but we fight for those we have lost, for those we can save. To a man like him, a baby was worth saving rather than abandoning to the cruel outside world.

"I'm glad he failed that last part although." Mother says out loud. "I've already lost so much. . . had to give up so much to protect those I love. . . I would have never forgiven myself if I lost him when there was another alternative out there. And I. . . I dont think Scarlett would have been able to deal with that." 

Scarlett. Yes. The male Vii. Like her, a child without a Forest Name. To be honest, she had doubts about him when they first met. He was a small and lithe male due to what appeared to dancing experience but, despite the Exarch's words, he seemed to be . . . missing battle experience. However, her tune quickly changed after Holminster. He moved with grace and skill, slicing down anyone or anything in his way, using the battlefield as his own stage to paint a masterpiece. 

"I must sound so ridiculous to fawn other him so much." She muses. "I never wanted him to become the Warrior of Light. I didnt want anyone to suffer or sacrifice so much if I could bear that burden. . . but it seems I can no longer shield him from fate. He's grown so much in his own right and he's become quite an amazing young man. . ." 

Ah. . . Mother and Exarch are not so different in that aspect. Two people with great power who would rather take all the suffering upon themselves so other people do not have to. . . only to realize in the end, it's not their place to make these decisions.

"But enough of that!" Mother beams, turning back to her. "Come now my darling granddaughter! Let's find G'raha together!" Lyna visibly chokes on air, letting out a loud wheeze. And that woman! That damn woman is grinning at her reaction. She loudly laughs behind her hand. "Oh my, that was better than I thought it would be. I heard how everyone compared you and G'raha to a grandfather and his grandchild. I had to see how you would react!" 

Of course she would.

Thankfully, the task of locating the Exarch is simple enough, given how he's running around the markets in a panic to find his beloved -- stopping by the culinarian shop to ask Y'shtola for help. The sorceress points in the direction of the woman in question and G'raha eagerly rushes over to her, her little two year old boy in his arms. Mother smiles, doting over the little boy, giving him an affectionate kiss. Lyna feels strange. It's. . . a weird fuzzy feeling. The way she treats and adores her son shows a genuine and true love for her kin. . . Despite the woman being so strange, she most likely called her granddaughter with that same love. How comforting, if not annoying.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> khrystie ends up in the first 10 years prior to scarletts arrival and basically starts a village called Home for people who are in early stage of transforming into a lightwarden, due to her adaptation abilities she can consume the light within people, and spare them from the fate of becoming a warden, however, its only if both parties consent to perform this spell. she then uses the accumulated aether to create a series of healing spells, which in theory gives her the ability to heal people again hence her picking up white mage in ShB. she also uses a fake name Zoei LeConna -- a combination of both her mothers [its complicated]


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> started with a shitpost concept and went wild

Living with this . . . condition for so long Khrystie has come to know one thing with absolute certainty. . . and that is immortality is nice and all but it's also very inconvenient. 

Take for instance, some unstable structure within the Syrcus Tower and without much of a second thought, she pushes G'raha out of harms way before he is struck but due to poor positioning on her part, debris falls directly on her foot. A loud auditable crunch follows, making it all too clear what just occurred before their eyes. The Seeker stops midway in picking himself off the floor when he notices the large debris on his companion's foot. He looks between the rubble, the growing puddle of blood on the floor and the blank expression on her face for what feels like several long minutes.

"Are you. . . alright?" He slowly asks, seeing how she's completely failed to make any sort of movement thus far.

"Nah." Her voice is strained and now that she's making an effort to talk he can watch how pain fills her expression. "My foot is fucking soup." Not the greatest mental image to present anyone. G'raha winces on her behalf, his ears pressing flat against his head. She kneels over, pressing her forehead to her leg and slams her fist on the floor, cracking it under the immense strength she was using at the moment. 

She had told him all about her inhuman nature -- in what she later admitted was hoping to get him to hit her while she was suffering from quite a depressive streak -- but to see it in action was a whole nother thing. It spoke volumes to how much she cared about the lives of others and held her true potential back to ensure everyone's safety on the battlefield. It was clear she was in so much pain that she forgot such rules she set for herself and more focused on expressing the pain to prevent herself from snapping at others. 

"Sh-Should I get Cid?" He questions, finally on his feet and while his hands anxiously dance in the air. The entire time he's arguing with himself what would even be the best option in this circumstance. Even though he, like the rest of the researchers, had training on how to handle situations like this before -- it was completely gone from his brain now that he _ was _here. Oh God. Would Cid have anything to even move something this large quick enough? "What about Biggs? He could probably move it."

"N-Nah." She grits out. "I can move it." And so she does with some uncomfortable sounds of crunching and squishing in the background. G'raha grimaces the entire time, his tail twisting in discomfort. Since she opted to use her Red Mage gear today she was lacking the usual armor that came with Dragoon and Paladin, which would have protected her feet. 

How well protected was questionable although but she may have been better protected. 

Slowly, cautiously, G’raha slides closer to offer his shoulder to her. His action takes a few moments to register to her but once she understands his intentions she places a hand on the debris and lifts herself while avoiding putting pressure on her injured foot. He takes an arm, tossing it over his shoulder and with a bit of hesitation, he wraps an arm around her waist. 

Together, the two of them hobble out of the room and it's only then G’raha remembers what’s waiting for them outside. . . .

Stairs. 

“Of course. . .” He sighs heavily. He recklessly ran up a number of stairs without the other researchers and she was the only one able to keep up with him. Why did he do that? Why couldn't he just relax? If he did, she wouldn't be hurt like this.

“Dang. What a mistake to make.” She suddenly announces dramatically. G’raha gives her a confused look but a glance back to the staircase revealed that the other researchers, Cid and company included, were making their way over to them with hurried steps. “Luckily G’raha here was able to save me.” He jumps a bit, completely confused by her words and it takes a moment to understand what she’s saying, but once he gets it, his ears perk up in further confusion.

She’s taking the blame for her injury? Because Rammbroes scolded him for running off during the last tower exploration . . . and ended up locked in a room for some time? [ it was once he swears! ]

“What happened!?” Cid urgently demands, rushing right up to her. Like a concerned father, he’s looking over her for any worse injuries but there is clearly nothing worse than the state of her foot. 

“Oh, you know, just running into things like a dumbass.” She shrugs. It’s so casually stated that G’raha is certain it won't be believed but Biggs and Wedge nod their heads in understanding and Cid lets out a deep sigh, shaking his head.

“Of course it’s something like that. You have to be careful. G’raha, you can help her back to the campsite, right?” He can't believe they actually bought it. Was the Warrior of Hope that reckless of a person? Regardless, no one is looking at him accusingly or showing any doubt about the warrior’s words so he awkwardly helps her begin the descent down the stairs. On their way back, he’s never been more thankful that she took it upon herself to clear the path to the tower and back to the camping grounds they called base.

He helps her into the tent the two of them share, somewhat flailing as he places his pillow under her foot and hastily pushing his books aside, knocking the stacks over and losing his place in various open books. Under normal circumstances he would have never done this and would have certainly fought the guilty party but her foot is far more important at the moment. 

“G’raha, please calm down, it’s fine.” Khrystie says in an attempt to soothe the young man but the mere mention of his name caused him to tense up and his cat like appendages to shoot up with surprise. “It’s fine.” She says once more, gently placing a hand on his forearm. Heat rushes to his cheeks and he hastily looks away to avoid revealing this to her. “Look, it’s already healed, just let me rest for a moment. You can go back to the tower, I’ll be fine here.” 

It's an impossible request. His actions got her foot smashed after all. Surely there had to be something he can do to help her. . . 

“Fine,” She sighs overdramatically, lazily slouching on the bedspread while clenching her fist in an equally dramatic fashion. “Bring me Dante.” Dante Velia -- The Warrior of Light chosen by Earth -- an Au Ra just like her and an Astrologist. He’s not quite sure how, but he’s under the tutelage of an unknown person -- most likely a Sharalyan who is tired of the rules and laws that kept such healing arts a secret. Still. . .

“The Astrologist?” He questions, a brow raised in confusion. She said she was fine, so why would she need a healer?

“My husband.” She replies, squinting her eyes but a beat passes and she blinks. “Oh, I guess I never did introduce him like that, huh. . .” She did mentioned in passing that she was married but she didn't bother with many details -- apparently she was filling the role of a leader in a clan, a concept that made him wonder if she was a Nunh of sorts but with her being Au Ra it seemed unlikely. -- but this new information does explain why she was so close and friendly with the four Warriors of Light that came to camp one day in order to aid in their exploration efforts. 

They come to support their wife in what was a hard time for her. It was an endearing concept if not one that makes him a bit envious coming from his lonely background, but if she desires her husband, then who is he to deny her something as simple that? 

Leaving his tent the search is proven to be thankfully painless as Dante is found at the edge of the camp with Daren Soule -- The Warrior of Light blessed by the wind -- talking about the crystallized plantlife. 

“Do you think we could transplant this into our garden back home?” Dante ponders, gently probing the crystalline flower. 

“I think it would need Aether and Nevegelo isnt exactly. . . abundant in that.” Daren returns a bit awkwardly. 

G’raha stares at the two, questioning too many things at once. There’s a number of strangeness around a number of the Warriors of Light but the ones directly tied to Khrystie are the strangest of them all. She lacks Aether -- a discovery he made on accident as he scanned the area with his goggles, revealing that she has something near identical to it and functions the same -- and when he asked her about this she simply stated her best skill is adaptation. 

That. . . made little sense to him.

Nevertheless, he clears his throat and rather simply explains that Dante's presents is required by his wife. Dante glances back to the other male, gives him a kiss on the cheek and stands up to make his way to the tent G'raha pointed out. Now, with G'raha awkwardly standing around and Daren just as awkwardly squatting, he is left to his thoughts. A husband and wife in a tent. Alone. Together. Slowly gears turn and his face grows red. No. There is absolutely no way they're actually doing _that_ in the tent! They can't! G'raha turns on his heels so fast that Daren lets out a surprised yelp and falls on his ass but the Miqo'te is taking long strides to the tent, trying to keep it together. Surely they couldn't have gotten that far just yet, so entering wouldn't be too bad! Yes! Surely this cant end in that terrible of a disaster. He takes a breath, grabbing the flap of the tent in his hands, his face burning red and yanks it right open.  
  
"What do the two of you think you're doing?!" The scene before him -- Khrystie with a goldsmith hammer in hand, raised and poised above her foot, and Dante with his planisphere out and ready -- was in absolutely, in no way, what he was anticipating. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!" He shrieks in absolute horror. Things get no better as she looks him dead in the eye and smashes the hammer against her foot, shattering it once more. He can see the way she winces in her eyes while her face remains emotionless.

"Surgery." Is all she says. Dante shakes his head and lifts up the sphere, the soft green glow of magic illuminating the space of the tent for a few moments. Khrystie places the handle of the hammer in her mouth, biting down on it as her bones rearrange themselves with a grotesque crunching sound. A few moments pass before anything is spoken once more, this time being Dante simply stating that the bones have been repaired.

"I'm no doctor but please dont walk on it until your properly healed." The young man begs. 

"I got it." Khrystie bemoans as she tosses the hammer back into her bag, muttering about how she'll need a new one since she bent the metal. Confused and at an utter loss, G'raha motions between her bloody foot and the planisphere. 

"Why?" He finally asks, his voice stressed and somewhat pained from everything that's just occurred before his eyes.

"Immortality does not mean broken bones are gonna heal right. They just fuse back together with other bone in a clump basically." She explains with a shrug. "Like Dante, I'm no doctor so I'm probably explaining it incorrectly but, basically, even if wounds close, the bones themselves were still broken as they were not in the correct position before my immortality fixed them. I was trying to get you to leave so you wouldnt have to see how fucked my body is when I had to break my foot again." G'raha thoughtfully cups his chin with a hum. Again, she's so unexpected in many ways. . . but. . .

"If that was all, you should have said so, my friend." She blinks, looking a bit surprised by his words. What? How could she be surprised? She already told him about many unique aspects of her being, although he will admit it was when she was in a bad place, but still! He did not think lesser because of these traits. They were apart of her! Quite frankly, he was constantly _amazed _by her. She was so incredible in the way she holds her self in battle or when speaking to others, despite all this power at the tips of her fingers, she much rather live and breath a humble existence. It was. . . she was truly breath taking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dante is actually a demon khrystie has a contract with and later married, but he passes as an au ra so thats the story the gang uses
> 
> also, uhhhh, theres a number of wols in my canon, four of them being khrystie's partners, one being scarlett and a lalafel and khrystie herself, her 'official title' being warrior of hope, and each of them carry a crystal. their warrior of x title depends on the crystal in their possession.


	8. You Dont Give A Shit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> watch me get mad at a certain npc's parents 
> 
> again

Lue-Reeq speaks with a tone that too obviously can be read as anxiety and the tremble in his voice gives far too much away. And yet, despite the fact their child is speaking to them, neither mother or father looks his way. So little is exchanged and yet it says so much.

Why Lue-Reeq is so out of touch with people, unable to forge relationships, and relies so much on money. It also explains why he was so surprised when she came back to continue their quarry for Andreia despite saying to his face she would be back.

Money is the only thing that's ever been certain in his life.

As a mother herself, she can barely hold back the anger that burns in her chest. This is their child, a life they brought into the world, and yet they rather watch some debauched show at the Beehive than -- perhaps, like reasonable parents -- talk their child out of going on such a dangerous hunt. . .

And worse of all, what hurts her the most, is the look of utter pain, shock and heartbreak on Lue-Reeq's face as his father brushes him aside and simply tells him to not bring shame to their family. Lue-Reeq reacts as well as anyone would under such circumstances by spitefully telling his father to shove his money as he has no idea why he came to see such a man.

Neither adult blinks or remotely gives a shit as their son runs off, near in tears as fast as his feet can carry him. The only one that seems to care is the servant bonded to the family, who quietly remarks the young man looks quite upset. It takes so much to not lash out at them in the several long moments it took for her to collect herself when the man slowly turns his head to her with a look of disgust, not even bothering to hide it, and simply tells her;

". . .Speak to my manservant and leave me to my entertainment."

Something simply snaps in her. 

Despite knowing she must be cordious -- being the leader of Home and thus its representative, she shouldnt act in anyway that would bring trouble to her beloved children of Home -- but she cannot stop this utter anger and disgust she holds for this couple. She grabs the glass on the table top in the blink of an eye and splashes it onto the two adults, her face frozen in a completely blank expression.

"Y-You! How dare you!" The man sputters while his wife sobs over her ruined makeup. "Do you kno-"

"How dare I?" She returns cutting him off, her tone completely neutral and expression unflinching. "That is your son. Your son is willing to _die_ simply to be praised by you and **_you dont give a shit_**. He's suffering and _**you dont give a shit**_. He needs you but **_you dont give a shit_**. People like you, who dare bring life into any of the millions upon billions of worlds, only to neglect and abuse them, are the worse kinds of fucks I ever have the displeasure of meeting." The glass comes down on the table with an incredible impact, shattering and leaving a dent behind from the sheer force she used. "Your son deserves more than you could ever offer him. So, do not spout that 'how dare you' bullshit when you can even put in the slightest bit of effort to give a shit about your fucking child."

With her piece said, she pulls up the hood of her cape and briskly takes her leave from the Beehive, her pace quickly picking up speed as she tracks down where Lue-Reeq ran off to in his despair.


	9. Dinner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> SLAPS THIS BAD BOY DOWN
> 
> I spent MONTHS on and off getting this done and it finally is; this tragically also distracted me from suzuran but thats life
> 
> anyway, theres some heavy content to the end fet haurchefant’s childhood, so mentions and depictions of abuse

To be honest, it's not the WORSE plan they've put together. 

To be frank, she's more surprised that Aymeric and Estinein agreed to help corroborate her story -- although the ladder was doing it begrudgingly. Actually, scratch that. She's far more surprised that Haurchufant's father, Count Edmont, completely bought the assine plan; hook, line and sinker. 

The head butler simply seemed happy and she’s more than certain she saw the man gently dabbing the corners of his eyes with a handkerchief a few times out of genuine joy for Haurchefant. Emmanellain seems to be completely oblivious to said plan, however, his manservant on the other hand? He was onto them but the look in his eyes said ‘this is fine.’ If she had to guess it’s because Emmanellain is killing him slowly and he could do the math and figure out needing six wards at once would be suspicious, which is the last thing they wanted, but he was still kind to them and greeted them all with a smile every time they encountered each other.

And then there was, Artoiriel. He was totally onto them. According to Mel, he caught him outside the room she and Haurchefant were sharing as. . . newlyweds. . . And proceeded to ask the older Fortemps if he 'got off to his brother fucking his wife'. That completely stopped his attempts to investigate how legitimate their 'marriage' was dead in its tracks as he berated Mel for such a disgusting question and once he was done, he stormed off. 

God bless him for his sacrifice.

But. . . because Count Edmont completely believed this lie -- an absolute batshit lie they made up to get the lot of them into Ishgard -- he was more than eager to formally introduce her to the rest of Ishgardian society . . . as his son's wife.

_ Of course his wife. _

_ That was the fcking plan. _

She sighs, shaking her head. She doesn't want to think what would happen if she fucks this up. The ward status Alphinaud, Tataru and Scarlett received would most likely be stripped from them, and her son would end up on the street. She couldn't let that happen to Emil. She couldn't let that happen to any of them. She got herself into this hot mess. She has to live with it. 

She's an affectionate person by default and it's not like she dislikes Haurchefant either. He's kind, warm and welcoming, kind and compassionate. Traits she adores in any lover and -- in addition -- he's excitable and always eager to listen to any new story she has to offer which adds some charm to his personality. The fact he looks at her as a friend first then the Warrior of Hope actually makes her very happy. . . He would make his partner happy, whenever he met them and swept them off their feet, she just feels bad for this lie.

With a heavy sigh, she splashes water onto her face one more time before gently wiping it away with the towel waiting nearby. She can’t hold this off any longer. Soon enough a maid or butler will arrive and tell them they need to make they're entry in the evening room for the event.

* * *

"I did not think father would go to these limits for you. . ." Haurchefant confesses to the young woman beyond the door. Pacing around for a bit, he then takes a moment to adjust his tie one more, anxiety clear on his face.

To have such a beautiful, famed and powerful adventurer as his wife made him happier than he wanted to admit. Even if it was pretend. To think she would put herself through this just for her child and friends to be safe was a truly splendid thing to witness. It showed him how much strength she holds. . . but it also reminds him of how human she is. 

When she showed him this vulnerable and desperate side that she holds like any other. He would have to be completely heartless to ignore her in her time of need -- and he certainly made Estinein and Aymeric know this for trying to offer her safety in Ishgard in exchange for doing more work for their homeland after everything she's already done for them.

More than anything, he's more worried about himself for this event. She's made it clear she's gone through enough formal events to know how to carry herself through them but he knows as an Auri she will look 'bad' to many other Ishgardians, despite the fact they all know well that they are not dragons, and he isn't entirely sure he'll be able to hold himself back if someone chooses to bad mouth her in his presents. However, they'll most likely hold their tongue the moment she was announced as the Azure Dragoon and having this confirmed by Ser Alberic and Estnien would only reinforce that.

To distract himself, Haurchefant looks to the crib where little Emil is dressed in a tiny dapper little suit. The moment he approaches the child, Emil stops his babbling, lifts his tiny arms and makes grabbing motions with his small hands. The look on Haurchefant's face is nothing but affectionate and loving. While this child is not his, he will not deny it the father they want. Truth be told, he is more than glad to fill that role -- even if it's only temporary. 

To be honest, he isn't sure who Emil's father is, but given what his 'wife' said during her breakdown, it was clear that it was one of the Scions and he absolutely loathes the part of him that hopes that man is gone so he can truly embrace the role of a lover and father to the two of them. It's rather disgusting. He shouldn't wish that for any person. Especially someone who dedicated so much time and energy in protecting others and still meant so much to the woman he's hopelessly fallen for.

"Alright, I'm ready. . ." The bathroom door opens and out steps the Warrior of Light and he swears he cannot breathe. She was always an absolutely splendid sight to behold, but she was just . . . so much more now than ever. 

She was wearing a gorgeous glittering gown -- a bust with a jeweled neckline and a full white skirt adorned with large pale blue ribbons -- a pair of white elbow length gloves, a floor length light blue cape with a white fur trimming and wearing such beautiful pearl white jewelry that twinkled in the light. The use of light makeup -- eyeliner, light pink lipstick and light blush -- and her beautiful silky hair tied up in a ponytail and decorated with a single white oldrose only enhances her natural charm and beauty. 

Haurchefant is going to die. He knew and accepted she was a lovely vision but this is. . . this is too splendid!

"Haurchefant? Are you alright?" She questions. He turns his head away and coughs into a closed fist. 

"Forgive me, you look absolutely beautiful my friend. I was always aware you were quite a beautiful woman. . . but to see you like this. . ." His free hand cautiously reaches out and takes her hand. Seeing how she does not pull away or makes a face, he brings her hand to his lips so he may press a gentle kiss on her knuckle. She quite visibly blushes a bright red color and he finds himself so far more enchanted than ever before. 

A woman of great power, skill and virtue is before him, bearing herself before him as any other person. Truly, it is a splendid sight to see.

"I never thought I would be blessed with a sight like this. To see you shining as beautifully as the stars that twinkle in your beautiful eyes. . ." She blushes quite a bit before fumbling out a simple thank you. She then turns her attention to her beloved son and takes a moment to fix his tie. He simply coos and drools, unaware of what was happening around him in that moment. Once she finds her son in order, she takes Haurchefant by his arm and together they leave the room, completely unaware that this night would cause the wheels of fate to spin and produce an entirely new future. 

* * *

One by one, the children of Count Edmont are introduced to their guests and met with clapping. . . leaving the two to be introduced, as Mel took Emil off her hands to avoid making too big of a scene all at once. Which is fair enough she concedes. Bringing Emil in immediately might just make more rumors should the narrative that they love each other is not established first and foremost. 

"Presenting Lord Haurchefant Greystone -- Knight of House Fortemps and Commander of Camp Dragonhead." For a moment, it seems most of the crowd is about to return to their conversations among themselves and ignore the very fact the one the party is even for is here. The young woman who stands beside said man in question makes a face of annoyance but Haurchefant simply smiles, gently patting her hand to calm her down. She blushes but does not protest his touch in the slightest. "And his wife--" And _ that _causes the crowd to immediately spins back to the doorway with shock, many whispering in surprise at the very concept presented to them. "Her ladyship Khrystie Melody -- The Warrior of Hope, The Defender of Eorzea, The Azure Dragoon and Queen of Nevegelo."

The evening room where the event was taking place proceeds to explode -- not literally of course -- but this is quite a bit of information to take in. The bastard son of Edmont has become the beloved husband of their nation's defender who happens to be a queen as well? It's far more than they could imagine to even _ be _ possible for one of his standing.

The woman in question holds onto Haurchefant's arm as he escorts her into the room, her expression calm and composed as her partner is almost vibrating with glee, and at the bottom of the stairs they bow for their guests. Haurchefant all too eagerly smiles to the crowd before him and happily motions to the woman at his side. 

"Ladies and gentlemen, I'm beyond ecstatic that you all accepted the invitation from Count Edmont to formally introduce my beloved wife into Ishgardian society. My beloved, Khrystie Melody, is a woman of great power and standing and I am most blessed to behold her presents in my life from the moment we met."

"Don't be silly," Khrystie smiles, her expression soft and affectionate. "I don't care about any of that. I fell in love with you because of you." Her gloved hand gently rests on top of his own, making red rush to his cheeks and the tips of his pointed ears. For a moment, her mind simply thinks 'how cute' before continuing onward. "Where one comes from, what job or status they behold means absolutely nothing to me. For it is the heart I care for and yours is absolutely pure." 

"And I know for a fact that I am not the only one to see that brilliant light in you. After all, there is a reason why just about every soul in Camp Dragonhead loves you so much. The kindness and warmth you give off is truly something beautiful and you are a beacon of light in these trying times." Internally, she screams, wondering where the HELL did that all come from? She's always thought highly of the Elzen male from the moment they met due to his welcoming and accommodating ways to a newcomer of his homeland and found the way he smiled to be absolutely charming but she never expected something so . . . so romantic to come out of her!

But, she maintains a calm look on her face . . . while Haurchefant completely fails to keep it together. He looks like he's going to cry and there's such a warm smile on his face. He's truly and genuinely flattered that she would say such nice things about him.

"Surely, Lord Fortemps, this must be a joke!" A voice shouts from the crowd. The clamour quickly quiets down for this individual to speak -- thankfully the crowd has shown no signs to agree to whatever this voice is about to spin, instead they all look curious. It would be the first trial of tonight, how she responds will set the stage for their entire stay in Ishgard. "This woman, if we can call it that, is an abomination!" Beside her Haurchefant tenses, his fists clench and everything about his posture says he's like a spring ready to launch into action. She lets the man continue, gently patting his hand to keep his attention on her. "Clearly a bastard child of man and dragon, how could anyone in their right mind accept them into Ishgard? Muchless their own family?!"

"My, that's a strange thing to say. . ." Despite the -- false -- confused look on her face, she bows her head to the man. "I would like to apologize on behalf of whoever told you such terrible lies." The man sputters, clearly taken aback that someone would _ apologize _ for what _ he _said.

"Why do you sound so confused?" She ponders out loud. "Is there something wrong in helping educate others? After all, the idea that Auri and dragons are the same is quite impolite, we are two very different beings, with different cultures and ways of life. I understand it's confusing when you meet someone new and so very different but the unknown is not something to fear! It's a chance to see something new and learn from it!" She frowns, putting on a concerned expression. 

"Although, I truly hope it is not your intention to make your fellow countrymen seem as if they're crude and uncivilized individuals by making such brash assumptions about people you've just met. I'm almost certain that such cruel actions would do nothing but sully your nation's image." The man continues to sputter, thrown for a complete loop as he's now the one facing scrutony from the other guests.

"Aye!" A familiar voice cheers right back. The heads turn to the voice and she locates Ser Alberic among the crowd, along with a Elzen man in his mid thirties with long silvery-white hair, with a glass raised among the sea of people. People whisper in wonder at former Azure Dragoon agreeing with this forgien woman's words but, truth be told, the young woman was never was aware of what she meant to the man that trained her in the way of the dragoon or how her kindness truly touched him when she was willing to listen to his past sins and still look at him with respect. It is now she realizes that this man looked to her -- his student -- with such pride that, in turn, fills her with joy. "Although she may look different from us. It does nothing to deter her passionate heart and willingness to protect others. Tis why the dragon eye choose her as this generation's second Azure Dragoon!" 

"To be frank, it's quite a challenge to work with her as she had . . . a rather unorthodox training and holds an arsenal of skills unlike any Dragoon I've ever encountered. She is essentially a ‘one man army’ with nothing but honest intentions." The Elzen beside the Hyur muses out loud. "However, I am more than proud to have her as my brother-in-arms as she is someone who defeated me in quite a grueling duel, proving her skills to be genuine." It takes the young woman several long seconds to even realize the Elzen is _ Estinein _. 

It's stupid but she never once pondered what he looked like under his helm but all of her expectations were blown out of the water before she even dared to imagine them. He's quite a looker with a handsome tanned skin tone, sharp dark eyes with bags under them and sunken cheeks. . . . Actually, the more she looks the more fucked up he looks. Ugh. When was the last time he slept? She, however, has no chance to voice this concern -- not like she could at the moment with all eyes on her anyway -- when it's Aymeirc who speaks next.

"And how can we forget she led the assault on a Garlean faculty, stopped Iceheart's attempts to summon forth a Primal and was a main component in protecting our city's gates at the battle on The Steps of Faith not long ago? Truly, she is a wonderful individual and for her to wed my dear friend is but a blessing for them both." Her face heats up and, God, she feels like she's going to melt into a puddle. Beside her Haurchefant smiles, his expression soft and affectionate.

"Oh, what is this?" He teases. "Are you not used to being praised for how splendid you are?" It seems like an innocent enough question but moments later he realizes that it's quite loaded. After all, it's one of the things she expressed problems with. Despite all the good she's done for the people of Eorzea, when she needed help at that horrid banquet the other State-City leaders left to save their skin, despite the fact the hero that saved them all was being accused of murder -- an utterly rediculous claim. 

At the end of the day, it left a clear message; That despite all the work she carried out to protect those in need -- not for fame and fortune -- protection was not to be given to her or her allies. They were all expendable. 

Haruchefant can’t help but scoff at the notion. A woman like her? Expendable? It was such utter nonsense. 

Regardless, any ill will aimed at her was efficiently and quickly snuffed out -- or silenced at the very least -- finally giving Haurchefant a chance to scan the crowd for his dearest friend. His father, of course, extended invitations to each of the high houses and despite Haillenarte losing some power, they were House Fortemps’ allies after all!

And the moment he spots Francel beside his servant, Foncrineau, he breaks out into a smile. He meets his friend’s gaze and the young man smiles in return, nodding his head and lifts his drink in a greeting. Haurchefant expertly weaves his way through the crowd to arrive at his friend’s side and the poor boy looks a bit flustered to be greeted by the stars of tonight’s event, even if he’s on good terms with the two of them.

“Francel! My friend! It’s wonderful to see you!” Haurchefant beams with utter delight. Frances smiles, his nervous expression still present.

“I feel the same old friend.” Francel smiles, looking at his glass. “Unfortunately I’m the only one able to attend this evening. The count wasn’t feeling well and all of my siblings are stuck at their respective posts for the evening.”

“Tis unfortunate,” Haurchefant sighs before breaking out into his usual cheerful smile. “Still! I am pleased to see that you have returned home after everything that’s happened!”

“Yes, it is thanks to your wife.” Again, to be referred to as his wife leaves her a bit sheepish. “House Haillenarte is indebted to you for your actions.” 

“It wasn’t much,” She tries to reason with a laugh. “I will always help those in need--”

“Not to be rude my lady,” Francel cuts her off, surprising her, and places his cup down on the surface of the nearby table. His expression is incredibly serious, a far cry from his usual awkward and flustered expressions. “You had absolutely no obligation to help either House Foretomps and Haillenarte in the recovery of the Steel Vigil _ or _taking down Svara.”

Svara. . . Oh yes. It was a large dragon that descended when she was serving as a bodyguard to an engineer. The man was fretting at Camp Dragonhead that some dragon was coming and he was supposed to set up a ballista for combat but the camp was in a bit of a chaotic state at the moment and finding an appropriate soldier to be his bodyguard was complicated so she simply took over. She honestly didn’t think anything much about it. Just, lending a helping hand where it was needed.

“Really, it isn’t much. I just help people in need.” However Francel surprises her by suddenly bowing to her, his cheeks flushed red.

“Perhaps it’s not much in comparison to all you’ve endured but it means much to the Haillenarte House! Your actions have brought Chlodebaimt to rest at long last, so we thank you from the bottom of our hearts.” The young man places a hand to his chest and rises up, revealing the tears glimmering in the corner of his eyes.

“C. . .Chlodebaimt?” It’s a name she’s certainly never heard of but given the look on Francel’s face, perhaps he was once someone important to him. 

“Ah, yes, you never had the chance to meet him.” The Haillenarte servant forlornly whispers. “He was the second born of the Haillenarte house and served as the commander of the Steel Vigil. . . The Haillenarte house lost the Vigil with his unfortunate passing shortly after the Calamity.”

Ah. That explains it. Although she knew little of his family, her thoughts about his expression were spot on. She bows her head to him just a bit.

“I’m sure he’s passed on with grace. The knowledge that your family is in good health as well has most certainly eased whatever previously weighed down on his soul.”

“I truly hope that is the truth. . .” Khrystie gives him a kind smile and gently pats his shoulder to further reassure him. Seeing him smile, a bit tearfully, brings a sense of joy to her.

The couple continues to make their way around the large ballroom greeting guests and observing others as the night drags on, eventually parting ways to speak to close family and friends. A few times Khrystie spotted Mel beside Scarlett but handled Emil a bit. . . oddly. Like he was confused about how he’s supposed to hold a baby. Which was weird considering this really isn’t the first time he’s carried one of her children but she was willing to chalk it up to him being awkward and/or tired at the moment. It’s been an exhausting week for all of them after all.

That aside, she even spotted a few of her lovers among the crowd. Shinjiro was apparently hired as a new chief -- Tifa as well with a lie that she was his assistant -- and so the two safely made their way into the city. She had to admit it was a bit strange but at least she didn’t have to worry about the Blades and Braves trying to make way into Lima to harass either of them anymore.

Shinjiro motioned with his head, indicating that not far off was Daren with his two boyfriends. While Sanson Smyth wore his formal Serpent wear and Daren wore his own formal wear -- a woad blue vest over a long sleeve dress shirt accompanied with a red silk ribbon tie, a pair of black slacks and shiny dress shoes -- it’s pretty clear Guydelot borrowed something that belong to the count from the villa she hooked them up with while they were in Ishgard for their job together.

Daren, bless his heart, was doing everything he could to keep the two of them from murdering each other in public. Unfortunately it seemed half of the trouble came from the fact the other wanted to spend time alone with their mutual partner while the other fucked off for a while. 

Tragic.

At least Dante’s group was comparatively calmer; he had access to Ishgard sooner than any of them but that was due to him awkwardly getting tangled up in a rescue mission. Afterwards he was more or less dragged back to Ishgard and informed it was now his responsibility to help spread the word of Astronomy through the city-state. 

Despite that incredibly bumpy entry to the city, he’s managed to avoid trouble thus far despite his Auri like appearance -- the fact his sponsor was of House Durendaire most likely aided in that. . . but the woman with them kept staring at her with some serious intensity. It wasn't out of malice from what she could tell but more like she was seriously thinking about something. Whatever it could be.

* * *

Being wards of the house and new to the city they -- he, Scarlett and Tataru -- were given clothes for the evening and. . . Alphinaud looked like some poor dress up doll in an outfit heavy with lace and frills. Tataru looked absolutely darling although. She always did look cute. . .

“Alphie,” Khrystie greets, approaching the young Elzen and placing a hand on his shoulder. The young boy in question jumps and on instinct his hand moves to where his grimoire would rest only to recall he left it behind as it would be improper for the formal event he was attending. “Right, no touching without making my presents clear first.”

Alphinaud makes a face, as if he’s questioning what the hell she’s saying but she waves it off. She instead grabs a plate of zensai from a passing servant and presents it to her two friends.

“Come now, eat some of the food Shinji made.”

“Ah, so I wasn't seeing things when I saw Aragaki among the crowd.” Alphinaud takes a moment to look over the selection -- shrimp spring rolls, slices of Ankimo and small servings of Chawanmushi -- before selecting what seemed to be the most familiar to him. The shrimp. Khrystie, being familiar with Japanese cuisine, happily takes one of the tiny bowls of Chawanmushi.

“He’s got quite a reputation.” The young woman beams with pride and utmost joy. “My husband is truly wonderful.” Alphinaud chokes on his spring roll. Khrystie simply waves it off before realizing she should help the poor boy and gives him a pat on the back as he pounds a closed fist against his chest. “Listen, Edmont _ knows _ about that stuff. How else did you think I got him to lend a vila to Daren?”

“W-What? Soule is here as well?” Khrystie simply points to the young man in question, who was currently entangled in a heavy and heated liplock from Guydelot while a very obviously flustered Sanson criticized him for such an act in public in a harsh but hushed tone. Alphinaud’s face falls a bit, wondering how Daren -- out of any of the Warriors of Light -- ended up in a relationship like _ that _.

“Still, Lord Edmont knows about your arrangement and he still put this event together for you?”

“I explained it’s a pretty normal thing Nevegelo and my Godparents are in a poly relationship as well; that they’ve been happily married for years and with a biological daughter of their own.” Khrystie simply shrugs. 

Neither of those statements were lies despite how odd it sounded. 

The professor is still very happily married to his childhood friend and movie star wife and the three of them dote and adore their daughter -- as they continue to do to her despite the distance that separates them or the fact she’s not biologically their kid. She was young when she first found out about the concept of polyamory but she very quickly caught on that, although it understandably takes a bit more work, with communication, effort and love, it’s perfectly functional.

And once the dust settled after the civil war she was informed by Jack that poly relationships are incredibly common in Nevegelo, which led to the decision to make a permanent residence within the kingdom. Although it was fair to note that it was far more common to see fae and wolf creatures to engage in such relations, however a number of humans did engage in polyamory as well.

“Additionally, explaining the open relationship aspect is open to everyone in the clan -- not just me -- and, not to mention, having Haurchefant vouch for me and our mutual ‘feelings’ assured his father that it wasn’t a fling or anything, which seemed to be his biggest concern.” The young woman beams with pride, looking so proud of herself for how she’s handled everything thus far.

“I don’t know if you should call it ‘feelings’.” Tataru frowns, mirroring the air quotes she made. “He’s quite into you, you know.”

“Embarrassingly so.” Alphinad nods. Khrystie blankly stared at the two, her brain struggling to do the math of how _ anyone _\-- much less Alphinaud -- could reach that conclusion.

She was always aware of how Haurchefant was fascinated with adventurers but he _ always _ spoke highly of her in particular. She honestly thought nothing of it -- it’s a thing that just happens so often in her line of work over the last sixteen years that she’s almost numb to it but it’s the praise that still gets her although -- and she ultimately attributed it to her reputation as the Warrior of Hope, not because of a romantic attraction to her. 

But, thinking back on it now, it’s now glaringly obvious that he never spoke as much about the other Warriors in comparison. However she assumed that was because she made a point to visit him when she came out to Coaerthas for Dragoon training, which allowed her to share a number of stories with him -- all that he eagerly listened to with wide eyed wonder and fascination.

The way his eyes glimmered and the lovesick smile on his face as he rested his head against the palm of his hand. He was always so. . . so goddamn wistful! Jesus Christ. He was so obviously into her this whole time but she was too fucking _ stupid _to realize it!

No wonder Estinien was so against this plan, it relied on her basically taking advantage of Haurchefant’s feelings for her and indulging in his fantasy of them together -- ultimately with no pay off for him. A grim look crosses her face -- something that more or less screams death -- as the reality of the plan hits her like a train at full speed.

“I have made a huge mistake.” She bemoans softly but before she can even acknowledge the concern on her friends faces, she takes off running.

She needs to find him. She needs to talk about this. Now. 

* * *

“. . . You’re trying to tell me. . . you had _ no idea _ he was trying to court you for _ months _ .” The Hot Chocolate. The offers to prepare her a meal. The fact he _ always _ had a room to offer her when it got late or the weather was too harsh. _ Of course _ those were fucking courting tactics. For Christ sake. She literally thought that was him just being polite. 

“Absolutely not.” Khrystie replies without hesitation. “No one courts where I come from. They just ask, ‘hey, you wanna go out.’ They go out, and if it works out they become partners. I’m a fucking idiot anyway, its why I need people to be straightforward with me!”

“I’ll tell you where he is if you stop talking about yourself like that.” Estinein mumbles, clearly uncomfortable despite the blank look on his face. It’s always been a terrible habit of hers to trash talk herself when in a panic or stressed out, many times he’s been a witness to her rants where she puts on an exaggerated smile and . . . tears into herself or the situation at hand. 

It mildly concerns him that a woman of such power and skill has turned out to be her own worst enemy. It really makes him question what kind of shit she’s dealt with to resort to such behavior. Or how she managed to cobble together a clan in the first place if she’s so goddamn oblivious about romance but that’s a completely different can of worms.

“I’m not talking like anything.” She frowns with a huff. “Just. . . I never realized and looking back on it, it's so obvious now?” Estinien feels. . . a twinge of guilt about being so harsh with her when the plan was first brought up. She’s clearly frazzled and not because she is worried about how this will impact _ her _ but because she’s genuinely worried about Haurchefant feelings and how this plan will affect _ him _ \-- even if it was his idea from the start -- now that she’s aware that his feelings run so deep for her. 

For a woman that’s been in combat for almost as long as he has, she’s retained her humanity and ability to care for other people, even if they’ve betrayed her before. Perhaps that’s why she’s earned the title ‘Warrior of Hope’ and why his friend is so attracted to her. 

She’s a woman of wonder. . . and idiocy. 

Nevertheless, Estinien lifts a finger to point her in the direction his friend departed for when the crier makes a rather sudden announcement.

“Presenting Ser Grinnaux de Dzemael the Bull and Ser Paulecrain de Fanouilley Coldfire of the Heaven’s Ward!” Much to her surprise, the air of the ballroom completely shifts. While there’s some degree of excited chattering about the ballroom what’s far more obvious is the cloud of apprehension that suddenly looms over all the guests. 

“Fuck me.” Estinien quietly bemoans clicking his teeth in annoyance and utter disdain. Khrystie honestly has no idea who these people are but it’s apparent that the mere mention of their names has apparently ruined Estinien’s evening, seeing how he grabs multiple glasses of alcohol off the tray of a passing server and proceeds to down them. “I’m not inebriated enough to deal with those shites.”

“What?” She questions almost incredulously. Estienien leans in close, his warm breath tickling her skin as his steel blue eyes bore into Ajisai’s pink-red ones.

“Listen, the Archbishop is not someone who’s bad side you want to get on. He’s a real shitehead.” It takes everything for Khrystie to not burst out laughing and despite the fact they haven't known each other for a long time, they’ve still managed to form a decent enough comradery that he knows she’s losing it internally so he simply grabs her by her lips to get her to focus once more. 

“This is no time for jokes. The archbishop is a poison on this nation. He’s a callous man with little care for how his actions impact the people he is supposed to protect and his bodyguards are no better.” Watching anger rise up in those mesmerizing starry eyes brings a smirk to his lips. That’s the kind of reaction he wanted and one the Heavens’ Ward deserves from a woman like her.

“Come now! Show me the woman of the hour!” An Elezen with a dark skin tone among the pair demands. Despite apparently being a man of higher status and power he was rather unkempt with his dirty blond hair tied up in a messy ponytail and a scar above the brow of his left eye.

The other male looked just as. . . suspicious? -- Concerning? -- as him. There was something in the air around him -- while the former had bloodlust carved into his eyes -- he radiated a certain malicious and calculative calmness. Still, he had some semblance of a formal air around him; a short silver hair bunched into a tiny ponytail, a tanned complexion with scars peeking from under the eyepatch that covers his right eye.

Both men wore a rather elegant, shiny white suit of armor with dark blue accents, coupled with a dark blue skirt with the emblem of what she assumed was the Heavens’ Ward.

* * *

clap

* * *

  
  


And the moment eyes connected, she realized Estinen’s warnings were done with good intentions and genuine concern for her. She could hear the clap of her internal alarms going off. A steady but haunting clap ringing in her ears, scraping against her bones and violently reverberating around her.

* * *

clap clap

* * *

It was a warning from her very soul. The same sound she heard when Lahabrea first took Thancred’s body as a vessel. A sound she’s heard many times before once something within her is able to assemble the pieces and recognize the warning before she can mentally.

She knew without a doubt, it was a warning that these men were a true and genuine danger.

That only brings up the question of _ how _. How were these men dangerous? What did they do or will do to make themselves enemies of her? Or were they already a danger in a way that’s not visible to the naked eye?

* * *

clap clap clap

* * *

“A dragon?” The first male raises a brow as he glances her over, amusement twinkling in his eyes. “I suppose something as sturdy as that would send Voidsents packing.”

“An Auri, Ser.” It takes everything in her willpower to not let her expression drop to utter annoyance as she corrects the Elzen with the sweetest smiles she can muster. He’s very clearly unimpressed by this correction, more or less dismissively waving her off. 

“Whatever sort of abomination you are, you clearly hold skill to clear out the Darkhold so efficiently, so how about a duel?” Behind her Estinien shoots a harsh look to the man, Ser Grinnaux, and apparently upon seeing his reaction Alphinaud -- who she can see out of her peripheral vision -- was making an X with his arms to pass the message along. She didn’t need either warning but she appreciates the thought behind it.

“I would prefer not to.” Is the immediate answer with a sickeningly sweet smile on her face. Again, Grinnaux’s face falls but this time he makes no attempt to hide his rage. 

“Oh? So were those tales false?” He demands, spitting venom. It seemed this man wasn’t called ‘The Bull’ for nothing. He was clearly thirsty for blood. Frankly, if it wasn’t for the formal setting she would have punched him in the face already but she has a role to play.

“With all due respect Ser, I will have to decline once more.” She deivers with yet another sickeningly sweet smile before he could even attempt to goad and insult her any further. “Battling a civilian, or even a bodyguard for that matter, is an utterly ridiculous notion. A person with power should use that power to protect what matters to them and those in need, not use it to entertain themselves. And on those grounds, the very foundations I have built my strength upon, I deny a duel with you as it would be a waste of time and resources.” She smiles once more, before lowering her head with a polite curtsy. 

“Now,” she continues as she lifts her head and stands tall once more. “The night is still young, Ser. Pray tell, do you intend to enjoy the evening with us or do you have other plans to attend to?”

“We have nothing else to attend to, so we’ll graciously accept your invitation for the evening Lady Melody.” Paulecrain graciously replies and she loathes it. She loathes how the crowd snicker to themselves and the smug look on the Heaven Wards’ face. She’s become more than aware that Greystone is a name that basically plasters a sign on someone for unfortunately being born from an unwed coupling. To refer to her simply as Melody despite the ‘marriage’ between her and Haurchefant makes her blood boil.

“Greystone.” She insists softly. As expected, she is given an incredulous look. As if they think she’s confused or a fool for insisting on such a name but she knows damn well what she’s saying. She proves just this by shooting a look. The calm poise her gaze gave was gone, replaced with a look that could cut a man down with a demand of absolute respect and power.

“I am Lady Greystone. Haurchefant Greystone is my husband and I will carry _ his _name with respect and honor because I love him. People are worth more than a name slapped upon them, much less a name forced upon them because of someone else’s actions.

“He is a man that provides safety for not only his comrades but for visitors of the nation. He very well could have abandoned me when I first stumbled upon Camp Dragonhead amidst a snowstorm, but he instead offered me shelter and food for the night, even guided me in the proper direction to make sure I reached my destination

“He is the one who gave me the impression that Ishgard is a place worth my time and if you cannot respect him, you do not belong in this household. It would be in everyone’s best interest, you leave for the evening in that case.”

Off to the side Lord Fortemps looks completely and utterly floored by her words, thankfully in a good way. Like he’s so utterly and genuinely happy his son has found a loving wife. It. . . make her feel like shit really now that she’s aware Haurchefant has been trying to court her for months.

She’s abruptly pulled from her thoughts as an arm wraps around her waist and a hand takes her own. Her first instinct is to strike whoever touched her if it was not for her quick realization that it was Haurchefant himself. His eyes twinkle with delight and a smile graces his handsome face -- radiating with absolute joy that she would offer such kind words for him, even if they were not truly married.

“Harchie! We’re still in public!” She sputters, her cheeks flaring a bright red hue. And yet, he does not stop, he places a hand on her back while using his other to grasp her hand and he begins to spin her about with a grin on his kind face.

“I cannot help it!” He laughs, his voice reminiscent of silver bells as his gaze bores into her's with such gentle love and absolute tenderness. His fingers intertwine with her own as he eagerly tilts her back as if they were in the middle of a graceful and intimate dance despite all the prying eyes around them. “My heart sings for you in my every waking moment, dear heart!”

Oh no. She’s losing. He’s just so. . . _ so fucking kind and wonderful. _

Smiling, he gracefully glides the two of them across the floor, skillfully and elegantly weaving through people to reach the glass doors that lead to the estate’s beautifully crafted and cared for gardens. Although the air is chilly as the snowflakes fall, it’s quite a beautiful evening. With a gentle and warm look on his face Haurchefant guides her down the stone path to the center of the garden where a beautifully crafted fountain stands, surrounded by a tall wall of bushes with red roses growing from them.

“I hope my actions were not too much, my friend.” He inquired gently, a hand still cradling one of her own.

“No, you were fine.” Khrystie quickly replies, taking no action to take her hand back. Instead she gazes at their intertwined fingers, the words of her friends dancing at the forefront of her mind. Haurchefant’s feelings for her are -- with the way he cradles her hand like it’s the most precious of gems -- it’s just . . . too obvious now and it makes her feel like the scum of the earth.

How could she not know? She knows she has issues identifying certain things thanks to how her brain is wired and she’s asked for people to be straightforward with her but Haurchefant isn’t a stranger. He’s someone she cares for and has unfortunately resigned himself to living a lie because . . . it’s all he can have.

Her disastrous breakup with Thancred followed up with Emil’s birth and G'raha locking himself in the Crystal Tower before she could confess her feelings . . . Honestly the list of things collapsing left and right since the fall of the Preatorium has unfortunately been relentless. And she doesn’t . . . She honestly wants to respond to them but she doesn't know how to right now, which feels unfair to his feelings.

“My friend, you seem to be deeply troubled.” Haurchefant whispers softly, his large warm hands gently cupping her cheeks as his thumb brushed away tears. She immediately looks away, hastily trying to clean her face as she mutters an apology. “No, do not apologize. Were you perhaps overwhelmed? You mentioned parties do that to you sometimes.”

Ah. Of course he would remember. Just like he remembers she dislikes tomatoes if she can taste them in a meal or that she likes to drown her hot chocolate with marshmallows and a bit of milk. Although it’s all mentioned in passing, he remembers details and does what he can to accommodate them.

_ Fuck. _ He really is too good.

“It’s not like that. . .” She mutters softly. She takes a step back, he looks a bit disappointed in that but respects her choice but she quickly places her gloves hand into his own. “I feel. . . guilty. . .” He tilts his head looking like an adorable confused puppy.

“Guilty? Whatever for?” Sweating a bit, Khrystie glances aside a few times before simply mumbling ‘Because you love me.’ In an instance his confused expression leaves him and he stands tall to proudly inform her: ‘Yes. That I do.’ _ Of course _ he shows absolutely no hesitation in saying that with that damnable soft but oh so loving smile on his face while his eyes twinkled with such tenderness. Quite frankly, it makes her want to melt into the ground.

“Everyone knew but _ me _.” She sighs. This confession takes Haurchefant by surprise. He thought he was perfectly clear with his attempts to court her, although, now that he’s become very aware the target of his affections was -- in fact -- an alien, perhaps her concepts of courtship were different from his own.

“I see. . . I was not aware of that. In honesty I thought you were aware but we’re kind enough to continue being friends with me.” He confesses looking a bit awkward. He distracts himself by glances aside to one of the many roses and with surprising skill he pucks one from the bush with a gentle look in his eyes.

“Well, that wouldn’t be far from the truth.” Khrystie fumbles in an attempt to properly convey her feelings.

“It is perfectly fine if you do not feel the same.” Despite cutting her off before she could explain -- most likely to avoid making her feel guilty for not being aware of his feelings and unable to accept them -- he smiles so kindly and warmly that her chest feels like it’s being pulled taught. “Your happiness and safety is what I want above all and if I can provide that, I will be more than content.” He speaks softly as he carefully places the rose in her hair and then brings a hand to his chest before bowing to her.

“L-Lemme talk.” She continues to fumble, her cheeks growing a brighter red hue. “I’ve done this whole fake relationship routine before -- with Dante -- but we were complete strangers and it didn’t rely on someone’s feelings. We ended up realizing we liked each other later on but this is really different and I feel awful.” She makes a few odd hand gestures before giving up and letting her arms fall to her sides with a heavy sigh. 

“It’s. . . I do appreciate it Haurchefant. I honestly appreciate everything you’re doing, but you shouldn't put yourself through this. It’s only a matter of time before you’re hurt in pretending we’re married and I can’t stand that. You deserve to be happy too.” And yet, he simply smiles and takes her hand to simply press his lips against the silk of the gloves.

“It may be hard for you to understand but I am truly happy to do this. I’ve already weighed the pros and cons of it all and accepted them. I shall remain at your side for as long as you want me.”

He really is too good. . . She knows she can’t talk him out of this as the light in his eyes says so much. He really will follow her to the ends of the Hydaelyn. So, perhaps, against better thoughts, she throws her arms around his waist to envelop him in the tightest hug she could offer him. Again, without hesitation, he wraps his arms around her and gently kisses the crown of her head with the tenderest of touches.

After what seemed like forever, the two part from their hug and settle down on the lip of the fountain to simply enjoy the moment together, side by side. It wasn’t romantic but it wasn’t friendly, somewhere in limbo, but right now it was nice -- welcomed even -- amongst the chaos in her life.

Or was until the sound of crunching snow very quickly, and yet dangerously, approached them. Much to her surprise, a look of anxiety crossed Haurchefant’s face and he began to look between the rose he placed in her hair and where upon the bush it was plucked from. It was pretty strange as she’s never seen him act this way before and, quite frankly, it worried her quite a bit.

The source of his anxiety soon makes itself apparent, a woman wearing a silk gown of the deepest and richest shades of purple with dark brown hair -- almost black -- tied up in a tight lace braided bun and green-gray eyes that gazed upon the two of them in disgust. Whoever this woman was. . . she was most certainly one of the high houses.

“And what do the two you miscreants think you’re doing in _ my _garden?”

Ah. Countess Fortemps. Haruchefant was very. . .careful in describing her, as if he was afraid she'd overhear him. Estinien, on the other hand, was not so careful and outright called her ‘a damnable wrench that dragged herself from the pits of the darkness like the voidsents.’ in the moment, she assumed he just hated her and was exaggerating to stress that, but given how her presents caused Haurchefant to meekly bow his head to her and actually _ apologize _ for ‘trespassing’ in _ the family garden _it seems about right.

And she hates it.

Who the hell does this woman think she is? 

“Your garden?” Khrystie ponders in an innocent voice. “What an odd thing to say! Father insisted that I take a visit!” Calling the lord of the house by such a title had the exact reaction she hoped for. The countess’s nostrils flare -- only for a moment -- but she quickly gathers her calm to shoot her a cool look before turning her attention to Haurchefnt, who she delivers a heated glare to.

“Move.” She spits, venom on the tip of her tongue. She was clearly looking for any and every excuse to lash out against Haurchefant and it made her blood boil. How could she be so goddamn angry at him? What did he do to her other than fucking _ exist _ ? -- something that was never _ his _ choice.

But Haurchefant does as she commands, his head hanging low like a dog with his tail between its legs, taking a few steps to the side before he is suddenly struck across the face by the woman with an earth shattering _ slap _against his cheek. She does it so suddenly and with an expression of mute annoyance, that it leaves the impression that she’s done it frequently enough, and given how Haruchefant doesn't even react. . . It most likely did. 

Estinein so crudely calling her out and insulting her, along with the hard look in Aymeric’s eyes as his friend described the woman made far too much sense now. She’s a bitter woman due to her husband’s infidelity -- which is a fair response -- but instead of dealing with her feelings in a healthy way, she instead takes it out on the child born from her husband’s actions, who is innocent on all accounts, and like _ hell _she’ll stand here and let it happen on her watch.

Khrystie quickly takes a stance between the countess and Haurchefant, an act that was almost comical with her being a good foot and a few inches shorter than him, but it does not dampen the fire burning through her entire being.

“Leave.” She simply states. Despite how firm her tone was, the countess looks offronted, completely and utterly scandalized by the concept that she would actually _ defend _ this bastard child. Upon seeing the countess not taking her leave, Khrystie shoots a rather furious glare. “I said _ leave _ . If you cannot give my husband an ounce of respect or even an apology for attacking him for simply picking a flower from the _ family garden _I don’t want to look at your face any more than I have to.”

She has to admit, she’s almost impressed with the countess’s refusal to back down. It seemed her hatred for Haurchefant outweighed the very fact a goddamn hero of the fucking continent was actually pissed off at her for that very thing but damn it all if she wasn’t going to stick to her guns.

“To boldly take the name Greystone and talk in such a callous way. Perhaps you two are meant for each other after all.”

“Countess, please do not talk about her like that. Khrystie is a kind and good woman to all who need it, she has done nothing but help Ishgard, she is undeserving of your scorn.” The way his voice trembles when speaking -- nay, _ begging _ \-- with this vile woman fills her with so much more spite than before. She wants to smack this woman. 

With a chair. 

Right in the knees. 

She won't need them.

Not when she’s done with her. 

The woman, however, scoffs. She turns her attention back to Khrystie, her eyes judging everything about the other woman with scrutiny. Probably questioning how she obtained her titles, much less get into a position of Queen in another country.

“I am simply stating facts.” She slaps her closed hand fan against the palm of her hand, a simple action that gets Haruchefant to stand a little taller which brings a smug smirk to her face. “A hideous halfbreed . . . and a dragon spawn. Yes. A match made in heaven.” The countess lets out a laugh -- which, while it annoys Khrystie, it comically reminds her of the classic ojouosama laugh -- a little too pleased with her jab at the knight.

The knight that tirelessly worked to keep this damnable city-state safe. 

The knight that loves and cares for each and every of his men.

The knight that smiles despite the normalized abuse he endures each and every day. 

The knight who swore to protect her and her allies despite the danger they bring thanks to that damned banquet.

The knight that cares for her despite her frazzled mental state that denies her the ability to properly respond to his confession. 

The knight that adores her precious son and sings him such sweet lullabies as he cradles him in his arms.

**The knight that deserves so much more.**

“My, with venom like that, it is no wonder you are deemed an enemy by so many.” Comes flying out her mouth before she can stop herself. The countess’s laughter comes to a rather abrupt end as she realizes that was the most direct attack the other woman has dished out the entire evening. With her gown bunched in her hands, Khrystie steps forward to get in the countess’s face -- or as much as she could with her height. “I’ve heard nothing but ill about you and warning after warning. I had hoped that perhaps that was not the truth given how kind the count has been! Surely, it must be because why would a man like him resign himself to such an abusive woman? However, it seems you live up to that disgusting reputation rather well. If anything, it is abundantly clear that you have not been cast aside due to _ pity_.”

Was it a bit too much? 

Perhaps.

But _holy_ _shit_ it was worth it to see that look of utmost shock and disbelief on her face. Khrystie smirks just a bit.

“_How_ _dare you_. . . !” The woman begins, completely and utterly scandalizes but the younger of the two simply cuts her off with a light hearted laugh.

“Whatever is wrong, _ mother_? I am simply stating facts.” The face the countess makes can only be described as ‘swallowed a lemon whole’ the moment Khrystie used her own words against her, much to her amusement. Thankfully, that act was the tipping point for the countess; She hurls a few more inconsequential insults before storming off in a fit of rage.

“What a piece of shit.” Khrystie bitterly spits. There were a few more choice things to say about the woman but it was unimportant. She instead quickly turns back to Haurchefant, concern clear in her face but he. . . looked confused, if not a bit lost. It’s a painful expression to see on his face when all she’s known was kindness, joy and warmth from him. 

She gently leads him back to the lip of the fountain where she removes the glove from her right hand and carefully presses it to his cheek. He looks up to her, his cheeks flushing red and lips parting to tell her he was perfectly fine but a quiet gasp escapes him instead as a soothing chill runs over the reddening skin.

“Ah, your hands are cold my friend. Should we not go inside?” He suggests but she simply shakes her head and continues to concentrate on the situation at hand.

“It’s just some basic ice magic. It seemed a bit better than grabbing a handful of snow and slopping it on your face.”

“You do not have to go to such lengths for me.” He smiles and it breaks her heart to hear him say in a carefree voice that what she witnessed was normal -- although getting physical was not something the countess has done in years.

“She _ what_?!” Khrystie nearly shrieks.

“Father has long since stepped in and told her to stop once it came to his attention. That. . . was met with some resistance and she moved into a spare villa some time ago. You need not to worry about anything.”

‘And not out of the family as a whole?’ The thought swims in her head along with many others. Something told her despite the count stepping in, the countess was much more sly in the way she berated Haurchefant. It probably didn’t help that the nation didn’t think differently than her on the subject, which only reinforced her feelings.

“I’m. . .” Khrystie makes a few odd hand gestures with her free hand, like she was struggling to keep her cool. But, realistically, how was she supposed to keep her cool after hearing all of this? How the hell do you keep cool when you learn the depth of the abuse someone you care for has endured. Hell, even Artoiriel’s intentions to check how valid their ‘marriage’ was suddenly makes much more sense. Perhaps it was not an attempt to humiliate his brother or simply shame them, and more along the lines of he genuinely wanted to protect his brother after everything he’s endured. “I’m going to kick her ass. I’m going to kick it so hard.”

“I’m certain I made the situation hard for her.” Haurchefant laughs. He tries to deliver it with his usual cheer but his expression is clearly pained and a bit panicked. “I was a horrible child, believe it or not! I was always so angry and violent! Surely, if it wasn’t for Francel I would be in the Brume, causing all sorts of chaos for everyone!”

She cannot even believe this. He’s trying to take all the blame for the family’s problems onto himself to avoid it falling on someone else’s shoulders. Why? So they can be happy without him or something? It’s the same exact bullshit Daren tried to justify with the abuse his father tossed onto him because his mother died giving birth to him. 

They’re both still enduring pain because of things neither of them had -- and never will -- have control over.

And it pisses her off more than anything.

“And what? That justifies child abuse?!” She demands with such fury that Haurchefant is taken aback for a moment. “You didn’t have a choice in being _ born _ and you shouldn’t be punished for that! No one has _ any right _to punish you for things you never had control over. You’re a living person and you deserve to be treated as one -- not as a cheap punching bag for a woman that refuses to get out of a relationship she’s clearly upset with.”

Sure, there are a number of circumstances about god knows how many things in Ishgardian society she doesn't know, which probably made a divorce complicated, but that excuses nothing.

“If she ever does shit like that again,” Khrystie begins in a serious tone as she jabs a finger into Haurchefant’s chest. “Tell me. I will protect you.” 

Oh. Be still his beating heart. It feels like he’s walking on air itself as she gazes upon him a look of utter determination. A determination to protect him! He cannot quite grasp why she’s so serious about this. . . but his cheeks light up and a dopey lovesick smile crosses his face. To have the woman he loves so dearly swear to protect him. . . It’s a wonderful feeling. A truly and utterly splendid one even!

This feeling. . . He wants to hold onto it. Just for a little longer. He could be selfish about that, right?

* * *

When the morning comes Haurchefant finds the bed his friend laid in is empty. It was not a bed they shared, he simply chose to sleep on the floor despite her protests, but he would be lying if he said he didn’t feel a bit disappointed that she was gone before he could bid her farewell.

Nevertheless, he has a job to do and she’s a busy woman. He dons his armor in familiar practiced motions -- occasionally stopping to check up on Emil, who coos and beams at the attention -- and lifts the boy from his crib once he’s ready to depart from his room. The little boy’s fingers curl tightly around the chainmail of his armor, getting a small laugh out of him. 

“What a charming little one you are.” He gently laughs, his eyes full of fondness. The boy looks to him with a hint of confusion but simply drools a bit. Again, he laughs, gently cradling the child close to his chest. 

Soon enough he makes his way to the dining hall to eat for the morning before departing for Dragonhead Camp where he is intercepted by Tifa. The young woman extends her arms in a silent demand for her child, giving him an intense look, but he heeds no mind to it, carefully prying the little boy’s hands from his chainmail and placing him into the arms of his mother. 

The moment the boy is securely placed in her grasp, her expression softens and she coos some nonsense to the boy. Emil beams, tugging at her apron with delight present on his adorable little face. The two of them slide into the kitchen together and the head butler swiftly exits with a plate for him and rather pleased look on his face. Although confused by the man’s joy this early in the morning, Haurchefant greets him with a smile and a ‘good morning’ as he takes his seat at the table

His meal is placed before him and it. . . looks quite different than usual -- a four dish setup made of grilled fish, a bowl of rice, a strange but charming rolled up egg and a bowl of soup -- but perhaps that’s not so strange given the kitchen staff recently changed.

“To witness the young master eat a meal prepared by his beloved wife’s own hands. . . what a wonderful sight!” The head butler beams, wiping away his tears of utter joy. Haurchefant’s brain sputters for a moment. A meal prepared for him. . . by Khrystie herself?

Oh. This is it. This is how he’s going to die. Because the woman he loved actually prepared him food!! It was such a sweet gesture, surely he could die this happy! Well, he can't actually die of course! There’s far too much for him to do!

With an unparalleled sense of joy, Haurchefant finishes his meal and his dishes are carried away to the kitchen to be cleaned. Beaming as brightly as he can, he makes his way to the foyer, strapping his sheathed sword to his belt and places his prized and polished Fortemps shield to his back. Just as he’s about to turn the doorknob and take his leave, the door opens and in stumbles the very person that’s captivated his entire being. 

Surprised, he fumbles to catch her as she falls into his arms and her face bumps against his chest. How strangely romantic. He simply smiles, helping her regain her footing and places a hand on her shoulder with a loud ‘pat’.

“My friend! A pleasant surprise to see you up so early! Did you sleep well?”

“Y-Yeah, but, um, one moment.” She hastily pulls herself from his arms and makes her escape only to poke her head back into the room to tell him to not leave. An amused smile crosses Haurchefant’s face as he lets out a small chuckle, confused but amused by the others' actions. Soon enough she returns with a medium sized drawstring bag which she offers to him. He, of course, accepts it but seems a bit confused by this offering.

“It’s a bento. Inside the bag I mean.” He has no idea what that means but he’s beaming nonetheless. How could he not? She’s never given him anything before -- not to say he’s upset by that as gift giving is a complex art after all! -- and to be gifted something once again fills him with joy.

“Thank you my friend! I may not know what a bento is, but I’ll cherish it!” Haurchefant beams. That response was what she expected. Ishgard was nothing close to Japanese culture and given how closed off it was, makes sense he would know nothing about it, which makes her quite flustered. 

“It’s lunch. . . and dinner.” She mumbles, her cheeks flushed red as she plays with her fingers awkwardly. “Your dad said you don't usually come back until late at night. . . so I wanted to prepare you something since you don’t seem to prioritize yourself.”

“You need not to worry about me! You’re a very busy person after all!” It comes out a bit too quickly for her liking. She responds to this with a huff and places her hands on her hips with a sigh.

“Yeah, well, it’s no skin off my back to do this. So as long as I’m in town, I’ll make it personally, otherwise Shinji will.” He owlishly blinks before he scratches his cheeks that have begun to glow a red hue. Something the young woman noted as cute.

“I think I’d prefer a meal lovingly crafted by your hands.” Now she’s the one blushing. In a haste to escape her embarrassment, she begins to shove him to the door, babbling about how he needed to get to work now before it was too late. He gently laughs, his eyes full of affection and kindness for her. He takes several steps to the waiting Aetheryte before looking back her way and waving goodbye. Slowly, she lifts her hand and waves back, still looking quite flustered. His smile grows a bit wider and he waves with a bit more excitement before he is whisked away by the flow of the Aether.

She stares at the spot he once stood just a little longer before entering the estate once more to begin her day. She would be accompanying Scarlett and Emmanellain to the Sea of Clouds today after all, and it would be the first time she would don her new -- specially made -- Azure Dragoon armor. She was a little excited to wear it, especially after the fuss she kicked up about the STOMACH HOLE the original set had -- honestly, who designs armor like that? Especially when you're constantly at war with dragons, who have enough intelligence to hit an obviously unprotected area.

But, truth be told, after losing Raha before she could even confess and with her relationship with Thancred falling apart, love is the farthest thing from her mind. Even so, she simply knows she wants Haurchefant to continue smiling so she’ll do her best to make sure he can do just that and most importantly -- happy.


	10. Triplets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> brain: what if khrystie is forced to leave the first w the scions but she’s pregnant with the triplets at the time and in the duration of her pregnancy the crystal tower in present it opened and graha wakes up. imagine him losing his absolute shit when he sees the triplets with the allagan eye  
me: IS THIS ALLOWED????

G’raha Tia is most certainly suffering a mental breakdown of sorts. 

At least he thinks he is. 

* * *

His dearest friend, the woman he loves and looks up to the most, wakes him from his slumber far earlier than he anticipated. She’s changed from memories that feel like days ago -- no longer is she an Auri but a Keeper. She’s grown older, a bit wiser, but she has that familiar warmth and love in her eyes that twinkle like the stars. . . And was clearly heavily pregnant at the time but she didn’t allow that to stop her although.

Regardless, she had so much to tell him but it was clear she was holding some back. He could respect that. Perhaps she simply didn’t want to overwhelm him all at once or whatever she endured weighed heavily on her heart. 

Honestly, he did not think so much about it but as his friend’s due date approached things very quickly shifted in the Rising Stones. A few concerned looks shoot his way, hushed whispers and then the jobs begin to pile up for him -- most of them forcing him to leave Mor Dhona for long periods of time. Krile is of no help, informing him everyone else’s hands are tied.

Perhaps he would have remained obvious to the oddities surrounding his friend had he not overheard a conversation between her and a woman with long pink curls.

“I know this goes against usual protocol Claire,” Khrystie says, her tone clearly tired. “But Thancred wasn’t there when Emil wasn’t born and he wants to be here now for the triplets. However, since he has no clearance to go to Council Landing, I’ll be having them here instead.”

“In the presents of the children’s biological father, while he is oblivious of their existence?” Khrystie grimances at this concept and G’raha’s ears press against his head. What is she enduring now that she must hide her children from their other parent once more? “Your children  _ always _ come out looking like the other partner. Do you intend to use a glamour to hide their appearance? You may have been able to pull this off with Nanako given the circumstances and the fact she’s human but you cannot use a glamour to hide the fact these triplets are Miqo’tes -- additionally, you told him that you haven’t seen Daren in ten years so you cannot sell the lie that these are his kids.”

“Raha literally  _ just _ woke up from a coma and he’s getting used to things.” Khrystie deadpans, pinching her brow. “Do you honestly expect me to spring on him that I’m carrying his kids?”

G’raha’s tail floofs up and his red eyes widen with disbelief. She’s carrying  _ his  _ children? No. That can’t be right. They never laid together and even  _ if _ they did, she explained she spent ten years on The First, any children she was carrying would have been born during such a time.

“So, you intend to hide these kids from him until you can explain things to him?” There was no immediate answer. Khrystie instead folds her hands together and glances toward the window.

“Listen, Claire, I know you’re trying to help and you mean well, but I don’t think this is a situation where no one is going to come out unscathed. I can’t punish my children for being born and looking like their father. I can’t suddenly spring this all on Raha, it’s not fair to him after everything he’s endured. All I can do with certainty, is send Emil and the triplets home to Nevegelo for their safety, which frankly, I should have done sooner.” The woman with pink hair, presumably Claire, sighs and shakes her head.

“And what do you intend to do about the father? He’s apart of the Scions is he not?”

“Krile has sent him up on multiple jobs that should keep him occupied during the time I go into labor. By the time he comes back, the kids will be at Nevegelo already.” 

“I see. . .” G’raha was confused before but this has completely knocked him off his feet. It’s him. He’s the father. There’s no other Miqo’te with a name containing ‘Raha’ among the Scions. Gods. A part of him is elated that the woman he loves and believes in more than anything is carrying  _ his  _ children. Another part of him is mildly disturbed. How? How could he be the father?

As she said, he was more or less in a coma until she woke him. Could this be the result of Allag technology? Given how his family bloodline inherited the royal family’s blood, perhaps the same could be done for other genetic traits? Gods. Knowing her penchant for getting into trouble she could have stumbled upon some device and accidentally activated it. But that doesn't explain  _ why _ she would be pregnant now! The timeline makes no sense however this theory is applied. 

“You heard something you shouldn’t have.” G’raha stumbles as he comes back to reality, his thoughts still in a jumble. To escape his confusion, he stepped away from the door to the medical wing only to run into the Warrior of Ice, Tifa Vanderblit -- and one of Khrystie’s wives. Her golden eyes stare impassively, almost uncomfortably looking into his soul. “You should forget it.” She simply states.

“But-”

“Forget it.” She repeats, a bit more firmly.

* * *

_ But. . . But how can he forget that the woman he loves is with his children? _

* * *

G’raha continues to play as if he knows nothing. He bids his friend farewell, she smiles a bit awkwardly but hopes for his safe return no less. He works to the best of his abilities -- quickly and efficiently -- to return to Mor Dhona in order to get the answers he needs. 

“R-Raha!” Krile gaps in surprise. She’s clearly surprised by his early return and he knows that look on her face. A struggle to figure out her next move in this game of chess. “I’m quite certain I gave you quite a bit of work to attend to. Surely, you’re not done already.”

Humming to himself, G’raha simply pulls his reports from his pack, offering it to his friend with a smug little grin. Across the room Tataru gives him a disbelieving look before fumbling through her papers, anything to keep him busy. While she does he takes this moment to glance around at the other Scions in the foyer. Not a single one is focused on him, all of them are more concerned for the warrior giving birth in the room over if the sounds are anything to go by, meaning they’re clueless about how he’s the father.

Immediately, without hesitation, G’raha Tia bolts for the door. He is beyond lucky that no shinobi are present -- thanks to Khrystie happily returning them home once the Doman Enclave began reconstruction -- meaning no one had the speed to catch up to him. Not even Krile, who had years of practice, as she was far too busy damning her short legs.

Like a cat on all fours, running from an owner that knows he’s done wrong, G’raha skids into the hallway connecting the medical wing and down the hall to the source of the crying he hears. There’s something in him that's responding to the cries, a need to comfort and protect. It’s a need he’s never felt before.

He reaches the source of the sound and throws the door open without a second thought and that’s when ( what he believes ) a mental breakdown begins.

The room contains some of the most important people to his friend and hero -- to be quite frank he expected to see the core of the Scions as well but perhaps that was too much at this point -- but his eyes hone in on the first tiny little kit he spots.

The child bundled in Thancred’s arms is as pale as their mother with wisps of her white hair. Despite what he heard earlier, this child most certainly didn’t take after him like her children supposedly did. He’s almost disappointed in that, but a part of him -- perhaps an insane part of him -- clings to the hope that he’s fathered children into the world. His almost insane desire is proven to be true the moment the little child opens their tiny little eyes and reaches out for Thancred. Tiny, precious ruby red eyes, full of wonder, confusion and interest. 

Recalling these were triplets, G’raha’s eyes then darted to the tiny little kit in F’lhaminn’s arms and for a moment it felt like the world stopped once more. That is  _ his _ tanned skin tone,  _ his _ thin red hair and when those tiny eyes glance his way G’raha knows those are Allagan red eyes.

That . . . That is most certainly his child but how. . .?

Even his father said one child per generation is to inherit the eye!

So how is it even possible?

“What are the little ones' names?” An unfamiliar voice asks. Pulled from his stupor G’raha spots a . . . strange and unique woman cradling the final child -- one that also carries so many of his traits, while the newborn is bald, this child has his skin color as well and the hint of his red eyes -- but this woman, she has an alien aura that gives off so much power and yet, so much kindness and love.

Footsteps are rapidly approaching, Thancred turns to the door, using one hand to draw a dagger and the other to properly hold the child he’s carrying. It’s a complete junpoxition from how Khrystie is responding to the approach of other people. In fact, in her daze, she motions to the child in Thancred’s arms.

“Uhm, Agate.” She then looks to the woman, making a very lazy gesture with her hands. “. . .’Raha? Agate Raha. . . think that’s how Seeker names work. . .” 

It’s . . . It’s not. 

He’s not a Nunh after all.

“I see, what a cute little name!” The strange woman beams, simply making a sheet of paper and quill appear out of thin air. G’raha can only assume it’s a birth certificate, a simple sheet of paper that will prove his connection to the children that his beloved carried. Even so, to see these children and to witness the naming of them, which confirmed his connection in the process, he doesn’t know how to handle this.

She’s out of her complete mind and he can't even  _ think _ of what to say.

“Oh Gods. G’raha, what are you doing here?” Alphinaud’s voice is clear and yet so distant. All he can focus on is the naming of his own children. Agate Raha. Ruby Raha. Garnet Tia. The names of sparkling red gemstones that match the beauty of their eyes.

“It’s my fault.” Krile sighs, fretting a bit as she tries to understand the blank expression on her friend’s face. “He came back earlier than anticipated and I didn't know how to handle it and before I knew it, he was running for the medical bay. . .”

“I suppose we should have seen this coming.” Y’shtola sighs, shaking her head. “Khrystie did describe him as ‘a little shite’ after all. . .”

* * *

Ultimately, G’raha is removed from the medical wing with not a peep or sign of resistance from him; Although this can be simply attributed to the fact he was in such shock. Nevertheless, this state of shock and confusion lasted for quite some time that many others were starting to worry about him but he wasn’t quite receptive to them.

However, the moment he realized the woman of his desires was before him, with a concerned look on her face, he suddenly jumped upright, his tail and ears pointing to the ceiling with such surprise. He hastily jumps to his feet, offering his chair to her.

“I’m not taking your chair.” She deadpans despite how tired she was. “I can easily get a spare. Keep sitting by the way, you look like ass.”

“L-Like ass? That’s completely insane!” He argues and with a flourish he places his hand to his chest. “I am the picture of perfection. You, on the other hand, are the ass.”

“Oh so you’re an ass guy, huh?” Khrystie cackles, laughing up quite a storm. G’raha’s cheeks flushed a bright red hue, unable to believe he’s fallen for such an awful set up. And yet, he’s quite happy with this. Despite how much time has passed, how much she’s endured and changed, she still has that obnoxious childish streak and she’s still comfortable with him. . .

Khrystie proceeds to clunk her chair down beside him with as much obnoxious noise as possible before throwing herself into it. Slouching, she furrows her brows and threads her fingers together.

“Okay, so, gimme a second. I need to figure out where to begin.” She takes quite some time to think this over, so much so he isn’t sure if she’s actually lucid enough for talking beyond her jokes. He opens his mouth to voice this concern when she beats him to the punch. “So, are these kids yours? I mean, yes and no. Biologically, they’re yours. . . but we didn’t fuck.” There are two things on G’raha’s mind at that moment. One, she’s as crass as ever, even after popping three children out. And two,

“Did you fuck my dad?” G’raha blurts out before he can stop himself. Khrystie stares at him for several long moments before bursting out in loud, ugly laughter. 

“DID I FUCK YOUR DAD?!” She continues to cackle, wheezing and laughing as she clutches her side. . . . Her sense of humor has not improved in any way despite the passing of time. Why is he not surprised?

It takes her several moments to calm down before a serious expression returns to her face. “God. If only that was the answer. It would be so much simpler than the actual truth.” G’raha stares at her with a blank expression. What the hell? What the hell was that supposed to mean? She sighs once more, folding her hands together and pointing her index fingers to G’raha in a thoughtful gesture.

“There is no simple way to say this, but, you are aware of the Crystal Exarch, correct?” G’raha gives her a baffled look. He’s been informed all about The First and it’s plight that nearly caused the Eight Umbral Calamity but what does th--

“He’s you. You’re the Exarch.”

G’raha’s brain shuts down. Again.

How the-- What the. . . What is she talking about?! The Exarch was a man on an entirely different world! A man supposedly made of crystal! A man that took the main components of the Scions to another world! A man that nearly killed Scarlett!

A-And this very same man is supposed to be him?!

“H-How? How is that even possible. . .?”

“That’s the complicated part to explain. All of it. We can only make educated guesses on some aspects. What we  _ do _ know is that the Exarch is from a timeline where the Garlean Empire was able to use their chemical weapon, the Black Rose, resulting in what more or less wiped the world due to the fallout. It was. . . bad. . .” Khrystie sighs once more, leaning back in her seat. 

“Bad enough that Garlon Ironworks opened the Crystal Tower with the hopes of coming to you, to undo this horrible future. I long left the world, unaware of what befell everyone, and with my departure I was erased from history as per usual. . . And you took my words to heart when I said Scarlett could fill my shoes all those years ago.”

And so, she explains all she can about what they endured on The First, including the amusing interaction she had with the Exarch when she first met him ten years ago and he could not recognize her due to her Miqo’te appearance she took on at that time. How she more or less kicked the Exarch’s plan in the ass by revealing it to the Scions before it could be enacted and confessed the depth of her feelings for him -- all the more reason why she could not let this plan come to fruition.

The pains she endured to cross The Tempest, break into the phantom city Amaurot and rescue him from the clutches of Emet-Selch. She spoke so fondly of him, the way she would lay beside him, hold his hand and assure him everything would be okay and told him time and time again how much she loved him.

Him.

The Exarch.

. . . not Him, G’raha Tia.

How was he supposed to compete with someone like that? The Exarch was someone that matched her perfectly -- the beautiful and powerful Warrior of Hope, who is quite literally the embodiment of hope itself and the ruling queen of a nation on another  _ world _ . 

The Exarch was a kind and benevolent ruler, beloved by all his subjects no less. A man with such great compassion and love for those in need, from every walk of life. Despite his soft, kind and loving traits, he was not one to simply stand down when his people were in danger. He took every action to defend his people from the cruel realities of life but he did not disillusion any of them -- they knew of the dangers when they chose to stand beside him but it was him who encouraged them to face each day with determination.

He, in essence, was everything Emperor Xande wasn’t! And everything he is not. . .

“And you loved him. . .” He whispers forlornly. 

“I still do.” She returns softly. “Even if he’s gone. . . he has a place in my heart that cannot be replaced.” To hear her confess that, it absolutely broke his heart. His ears pressed flat to his head and his nails dug into his pants legs. He can hear her voice her concern but it only hurts more. He cannot be the man she loves. He simply cannot. 

“I. . .I am not him.” Had he looked up, he would have noticed the baffled look on her face. . . then again, he would have simply attributed it to the grief she’s enduring and unable to accept that he and Exarch are not the same man. “I’m sorry but I cannot be the man you want.” Khrystie continues to look baffled, as if she can't even fathom why he would draw such a conclusion. 

“When in the fresh  _ hell _ did I ask you to be him?” The bluntness of her question takes him by surprise. He foolishly sputters for a bit before confessing that’s what he thought her intentions were in telling him the story. She pinches her brows and lets out a loud deep sigh. “Raha. I was going to confess to you the day you locked your dumb ass in that stupid goddamn tower.”

Again, his brain is reeling. Since then? She’s liked him since  _ then _ ?! When he was a stupid immature kid that made an ass out of himself and he evenwhen he was the fault for when she  _ smashed her foot?  _ Why would she love a man like him after interactions like that?!

“Oh my god.” She mutters. “Yes, since  _ then _ ! Yeah, you were a little shit but you were kind and compassionate too! Back then I was pretty out of it and going through a huge depressive episode after what happened between me and Thancred, even after spilling my guts with the intention of scaring you so bad you’d actually hit me, you  _ still  _ treated me with kindness. Your presents brought me so much calm during that time in my life! Even the littlest of things we did together meant so much to me! 

“All of those interactions were the foundation for the love I felt for the Exarch! Had I not loved  _ you _ I doubt I would have loved  _ him _ as much as I do now. Although you both share the same soul, your experiences are what have shaped you both into different people! Two different people I’ve come to love and cherish dearly despite what either of you say about yourselves!”

“Despite. . . what we say about ourselves. . .?” Graha can't help but repeat with confusion. That sounds so impossible given everything he’s been told. The Exarch is just so. . .! So incredible! How could a man like him, with so much power and wisdom, find himself full of doubt? Khrystie, however, grimances and dramatically throws her arms into the air.

“You’re both so fucking awful at it! Even when we first met you would bash yourself in favor of praising me -- something I would have kicked your ass for if it wasn't for the fact I was in such a slump at the time -- despite the massive amount of work you put into helping prepare everyone for the endeavor into the tower and the surrounding area. At that point, you were already showing traits of a good leader -- someone cautious and caring for his fellow men’s safety.”

“And while the Exarch is a caring and wonderful leader, he’s an absolute idiot with a huge self destructive streak. He puts the safety of everyone else before his own and is willing to die for that -- like a goddamn idiot. Of course, before we could even get even close to official, he spent so much time trying to convince me to not bother with him because he was ‘unworthy of me’.” To further emphasize how much this annoyed her, she made air quotes as she rambled on. “ _ You _ don’t get to judge what is unworthy of me. I do. And spending time with the one I love is truly worth it.”

“I-I see. . .” So then. . . the children really are his? She remarked he and the Exarch shared the same soul, meaning they must have the same genetic material and all; so even if they never laid together he technically is still the biological father. “Then I. . . I can help raise them?” And now, she is the one taken by surprise. She dumbly opens and closes her mouth like a fish for a few moments before quietly laughing a bit awkwardly.

“Is that. . . what you want? Or are you asking that out of obligation?” G’raha jumps a bit at the question. Ah. How is he supposed to articulate what he wants? He. . .He wants to be with her -- and he’s more than aware how her clan works so it’s no blockade -- but. . . he  _ does _ feel responsible to help raise the triplets in question. 

His childhood was not the best and to be honest, he did not tell her much, the smallest amount he gave her was enough to anger her. His father was a Nunh, which resulted in him fathering numerous children within their tribe for him to be the one to inherit the Allagan Eye. There was clear favoritism aimed at him from the start, which infuriated the women and their children and in turn, led to him being bullied and mocked as a child. 

It’s hard to forget whispers of him having the eyes of a Voidsent.

He knows Khrystie will do everything in her power to avoid such a thing befalling his. . . children . . . But he wants to be there for them. His father spoke of a great legacy his eye had, which propelled him into research and that ultimately led him to his beloved. . .but he did so little to comfort or support him when he needed it the most. He doesn't want to be a father like that. . . 

Although he never thought he would get to this point in his life, he swore if he had children he would do so much better.

“I want. . . to give them everything I was denied.” He softly admits. “Comfort, security, love. I know your clan can very much give them that, but I want to give that to them and I want to see them grow up as well. I want them to be happy.” Gently, her hand reaches out to rest against his cheek and in return he eagerly melts into her touch. He gently nuzzles the hand, looking at her with fondness and love in his lidded eyes. She smiles in return, bringing her other hand to his hair and gently strokes the long red strands.

“Then. . . who am I to deny such an earnest plea?” His tail happily swishes about before finding purchase with her own, affectionately rubbing against it. She continues to smile, her gaze just as soft and loving as his own.

Although the current state of their relationship was a bit ambiguous, the one thing they both knew was that despite what they’ve seen, heard and endured, they still hold feelings for eachother and they were determined to do the best for the children born from a connection that crossed time and space itself. 


	11. Potential

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a very quick blurb fet zenos, stormblood era; post daren rescue mission mentioned in the collection about him and c’tahj

“So, you lost the Hunter.” Zenos drawls, his tone clearly bored but the lack of disappointment or annoyance makes it all the worse. It makes him far more unreadable and in turn frighting.

“T-The Warrior of Hope organized the raid in the Castrum sir.” The trembling solider explains. Zenos’s shift in attention is immediately apparent as he sits upright and his gaze grows intense.

“And?”

“It turns out. . . the Hunter was her . . . spouse.” 

Spouse? To think an utterly inhuman beast like her was bonded. . . to someone utterly pitiful no less.

The Hunter had potential but he was just so. . . pathetic. He cried and wept for the first few months in captivity and during his training and collapsed far too frequently. Why would she waste her time on someone so below her? Shouldn’t she be bound to someone with natural talent that matched her own skills? 

She’s such a strange creature to be drawn to something like that, much less breed with it.

“So, she was the one behind the Castrum’s destruction, correct?”

“Y-Yes. . . We managed to recover some footage of her in action.” A feral grin immediately makes its way across Zenos’s face and his eyes sparkle with bloodlust.

“Very well, for delivering such excellent news, I think you’ll live for another day.” A rare boon from him but, any information about his beloved beast is a treasure he will keep.

The way she so easily deflected him and that look in her eyes as she prepared a katana to fight him — the utter resilience she showed as they battled — she was the perfect beast to hunt. And he will take any and all information about her to prepare for combat.

He wants to know the true potential of that monster in the skin of a savage.


End file.
